


The Soulmate and the Seeker

by Pawprinter



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Universe, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Found Family, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pawprinter/pseuds/Pawprinter
Summary: The Empire has fallen and Jyn needs credits. When she's contacted by a mysterious employer for a top-secret job, she has nothing to lose. This is how she meets Cassian - a man in a deep slumber, desperately seeking the second half of his soulmate bond.Her mission is simple: find the other half of the soulmate pair before the year is up. If she fails, he dies.What seemed like easy credits quickly turns into the most difficult task of her life. It is further complicated when she realizes that she is falling in love with a man destined for someone else.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 201
Kudos: 259
Collections: The RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa Exchange





	1. The Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AstridMyrna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/gifts).



> This is written for the [RebelCaptain Secret Santa Exchange](https://therebelcaptainnetwork.tumblr.com) hosted on Tumblr as a gift for the lovely thegiddyowl. The prompt for the fic was a Sleeping Beauty AU in canon-verse so... here you go!
> 
> This fic quickly spiralled away from me because... I'm me. What used to be a one-shot is now going to be posted in four parts. I would usually like to post all parts at once, but they're still only partially complete, and I really needed to get the first portion of the fic up. Needless to say, the remaining parts will be up as soon as they're finished.
> 
> Setting: this takes place after the Original Trilogy. Rogue One never happened & the rebellion got the Death Star plans elsewhere. Cassian still fought in the war. Jyn was still on the run. The only change from canon is that they've never met (and thus are still alive) AND there are soulmates. The background on soulmates in this fic are all provided in the text :)
> 
> Warning for coarse language.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Jyn needed a job.

Her eyes swept across the crowd, drinking in the details of the grimy bar. The atmosphere was alive with chatter and music, and heavy with humidity and heat. It was so hot on this bloody planet that she could’ve sworn she could taste it with each breath. The bar was packed full of patrons, all busy shuffling around, each on their own journey.

She tapped her fingers along the rim of her cup and studied those around her. She needed to find her contact, who promised to meet her on this awful planet. The sooner she met them, the sooner she could leave.

As she waited, she sipped slowly at the cool liquid in her hands. Sweat trickled down her back. Her hair was slowly being pulled from the ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her whole body was flushed and her patience was wearing thin.

He was late.

While she was desperate for a job  —  _ really desperate  _ — she wasn’t sure she wanted to work for someone like her contact. It was infuriating. They asked her to meet up on this hellish planet. They didn’t tell her the details of the job through communication, stating it was too sensitive to talk about over holograms. They even chose the bloody time of the meeting and they were late! 

Besides, they were sketchy, which she usually wouldn’t care about, but she was pissed off.

The only reason she was in this position was because of Saw. When he first told her about a well-paying and easy job in the Outer-Rim, she was ecstatic. While the galaxy was, visually, a beautiful place to be, it was nearly impossible to survive in it. She’d been on the run for years, never truly settling down anywhere after the war ended and the Empire was destroyed. That was how she survived — from jumping from planet to planet, not getting close to anyone, always keeping her distance.

_ You’re running,  _ Saw told her. He’d always been like a father-figure to her, especially after her parents were killed by the Empire.  _ We aren’t at war anymore. The galaxy is at peace for the first time in generations. Enjoy it. _

While the Great War had been over for five years, Jyn doubted she’d ever be able to get used to it. She’d always sleep with her blaster beside her bed, she’d always hesitate around new people, she’d constantly be vigilant.

But, maybe Saw was right. Maybe it was time to stop running. Maybe it was time to find a job — time to build a life — time to enjoy that so-called peace he liked to talk so much about.

Jyn swiped at her brow and tapped her foot. This was getting ridiculous. The bar was growing more packed by the minute, making her feel anxious and panicked. She felt like an animal in a cage and she was desperate to get out.

Maybe she should leave. She could find a different job — she was sure Saw would have another contact. She could do this again another day. She could—

“Jyn, is it?” 

Jyn jolted, her hand flying to the blaster on her hip. A KX droid stood several feet away from her table, his glowing eye fixtures boring into hers. Jyn forced herself to relax as soon as she realized the droid wasn’t a threat.

“Who wants to know?” Her hand didn’t leave her blaster.

“I am K-2SO, a repurposed Imperial droid.”  _ No shit,  _ she thought. She saw more of these droids during the war than any others. It would be hard to forget what they were. “I believe you contacted me regarding a seeking job.”

Her expression remained neutral — a talent she picked up over the years on the run — but her thoughts buzzed inside.  _ Seeking.  _ She didn’t know this job was for a seeker. Most individuals that required a seeker would arrange for a close family member to take on the role, not a stranger. After all, seeking one’s soulmate was sensitive business.

While she was apprehensive, she was intrigued. Moments ago, she was so sure she was going to turn this job away immediately.  _ There’s always another one,  _ she told herself.  _ You don’t want to work for someone who can’t keep track of time. _

Except… Now, she didn’t care about those things.  _ This was a seeking job  _ — the first of its kind that she heard of. She needed to know more, just for curiosity sake.

“Yes,” she said, hoping her surprise wasn’t obvious. “That was me.” The droid made no move to continue the conversation. Jyn clenched her jaw. “You’re the one I was in communication with?”

“Yes.” The droid shifted. If possible, he looked nervous and unsure. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a droid with such a prominent personality before.

“Alright.” She kicked out the chair across the table and gestured to it. “Sit. Let’s talk.”

The droid hesitated for a long moment, clearly debating something. Jyn didn’t take her eyes off of him as she sipped from her cup. 

She didn’t know what to think. 

She  _ never  _ heard of a droid trying to employ a stranger to become a seeker. Granted, she didn’t know much about soulmates, seeing as they were so rare. Still, she knew from stories that soulmate seekers were family members or close friends to the original soulmate. Hell, she even read one story of a woman being her  _ own  _ soulmate seeker before she slipped into the deep, long-lasting sleep. 

But a stranger? A stranger that was meeting with a droid? No. This was unusual.

“So,” Jyn started, seeing as the droid wasn’t going to speak. “You mentioned this is a seeker position. Am I right to assume you mean a  _ soulmate _ seeker?”

The droid bristled. “Keep your voice down, would you?” 

Well, that was her answer right there. This droid was looking for a soulmate seeker.

_ Holy fuck. _

She leaned forward in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t imagine how wild she looked in this moment; eyes wide, mouth parted, nearly vibrating with excitement. The droid inched away from her. 

“You’re serious?” she pressed, still in disbelief. “That’s the job you want to talk to me about?  _ A soulmate seeker?” _

“I thought I— You— Quiet.” The droid glanced around them suspiciously. “I will  _ not  _ be talking to you about it if you won’t keep your voice down.”

“If it’s so secret, why meet here? Why meet somewhere so public?”

“Because, if you decide to dismantle me for parts, there will be witnesses.” Jyn almost smiled. She couldn’t tell if the droid was joking or not, and that almost made the whole situation funnier. “This is a serious topic, Jyn Erso, and I beg you treat it as such.”

The amusement drained from her quickly. Her smile fell.

“Now I’m going to ask  _ you  _ to keep your voice down,” she snapped. Her gaze flicked around the bar, looking for any signs of patrons listening in. While her name wasn’t as famous as Skywalker, certain people knew of her family — and they knew her family for the wrong reasons. That was another reason she kept on the run for so long. “No names. Got it?”

“Well,  _ that’s  _ not suspicious,” K-2SO muttered. He sat up straighter. “But, yes, you are correct. This is for…  _ that  _ type of seeking.”

Once again, she was drawn right back in.

Soulmates were rare in the galaxy, which was why it was hard to wrap her mind around this situation. The rarity of these pairs also explained why families usually employed someone — a seeker — to find the matching soulmate. It sometimes took  _ months  _ to find the second half to the pairing, and that was if they were lucky.

“Okay,” Jyn agreed slowly. “If this is for…  _ that  _ seeking, then why are you here meeting with me? Why not the family of the person?”

“His family is dead.” Jyn shifted uncomfortable at the bluntness. Death was a product of war, but it was a product she’d never get used to. “He has no living relatives; it is just him.”

“And why didn’t he come then? If he’s going to trust me enough to find the matching half to his soul, then he should trust me enough to meet with me.”

K-2SO glanced around warily before leaning forward. “Because… because it’s already happened. He’s already—” He let out a sigh. “How much do you know about… about…”

“Soulmates?”

“Jyn.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jyn leaned back in her chair and lifted her eyebrows. “I know what I heard through stories. They’re two people who are destined to be together — two people that are destined to spend their lives together — two people who love each other deeply, more deeply and easily than non-soulmates. They are two halves of a whole. A match made in the stars, or so they say. Am I right so far?”

“You are. What else?”

“They’re rare. Not everyone has a soulmate. And, if you are one half of a soulmate pair, you keep it a secret.”

“Do you know why that is?”

“Bonds like those are taken advantage of too often.” That was something she understood. Corruption, greed, selfishness — that was why soulmates were driven into secrecy. “Other than that, I don’t know much.”

The droid nodded. “Well, it’s a good start. Not ideal. Not awful.” His metal fingers wound together, another sign that showed his true unease about the situation.  _ That made two of them. _ “I’m prepared to offer you this position. Before you agree, I’m required to tell you that this is a major responsibility. You are to complete the job within the next eight months. We will provide you a ship, food, and whatever else you deem necessary for survival.”

“And pay?”

The droid hesitated. “And pay.”

“How much?”

“A lot.” While that wasn’t exactly the answer she was looking for, she took it for now. Both the droid and Saw described the pay rate as high, and she trusted Saw’s judgement. “Will you have an issue with the job requirements?”

“Which are?”

“Travel the galaxy in search of the second half of the pair. It’s bound to be a lonely pursuit — one that will last until the mission is complete. You will have to be away from your family and friends for the next several months.”

“I don’t have many friends, and I have even less family.” Jyn set her drink down and smirked. 

“This is no joking matter.”

“I’m not joking. I get it. If I take the job, it’s going to be me on a ship, searching the galaxy for the second half. If I take the job, I will be  _ living  _ and  _ breathing  _ this mission. Every second of every day will be about this.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Am I right?”

“You are.”

Jyn was silent as she contemplated her response. Not many people would want this job; they’d have to give up too much to become a seeker. With her, though — she didn’t have much to give up in the first place. She was already used travelling the galaxy alone. Now, she’d just be making a bit of extra cash.

“Good.” Jyn stuck her hand towards the droid. “I’m in.”

* * *

The ship was called  _ Rogue.  _ It wasn’t the best looking ship in the galaxy, but it was practical and sturdy. 

It was also empty and cold. 

Stepping onto the ship felt like she was stepping into someone’s abandoned home. It was a nearly empty shell — the bare minimum only left behind — but it felt haunted with ghosts of the past.

She felt like a stranger among the walls. As soon as she climbed aboard  _ Rogue,  _ she felt uncertainty creep up her spine.

She didn’t belong here. 

This wasn’t her home.

“This is yours from now until your mission is complete,” K-2SO said, as if he could tell what she was thinking. He hovered a few paces behind her, unsure what to do.

Her hand trailed against the back of a circular seating area as she observed the ship. It was extremely customized from the factory designs from what she could tell. Whoever owned this ship before her must’ve lived on it.

“Rogue is equipped with everything you should need. A food preparation area—“ K-2SO pointed to a small area separated from the main body of the ship. “— the bunk is in the back. Cockpit up front.”

“Guns?”

“No guns.” Jyn wasn’t sure how she felt flying a ship that couldn’t fight back, but she didn’t have much say in the matter. She’d just have to make do. “This is the hologram playback system.”

She turned her attention to where K-2SO pointed. In the centre of the living space was a large circular table, surrounded by a curved booth. She recognized the technology housed in the table, and it was as he said; a hologram playback system.

“Cassian left hundreds of hologram messages for the seeker,” the droid explained. “He knew from a young age that this was his fate and developed a bank of messages and information for the seeker, in hopes that it would help in their mission. After all, your mission is to find the other half of the soulmate pair and, to do so, you must know him.”

Jyn felt the edges of panic reaching for her. 

This was a lot.

She did what she did best — she ignored it. She stuffed her worry away, instead focusing on something else.

(Maybe she was running. Maybe she was used to that.)

“You mentioned earlier that I don’t know everything about soulmates. Can you tell me?”

“I suppose that is important, considering the next eight months of your life is focused around soulmates.” She never heard a droid sound so exhausted before. She didn’t think it was possible.

It was that day, on that hellish planet, that she learned about soulmates. In a way, it reminded her of those fairytales her father told her while she was growing up. In another way, it was terrifying.

She was right earlier — a soulmate bond was a connection between two people, bonding them and connecting them deeply. They were meant to be together.  _ It was written by the Fates, a product of destiny, written in the stars.  _

As soon as the oldest individual in the soulmate bond turned 25 years old, they’d fall into a deep and unbreakable slumber. They wouldn’t age, they wouldn’t change, they wouldn’t wake — not until the second half of the soulmate bond woke them with a kiss.

The idea behind it was beautiful. To know there was someone out there meant for you — that they would love you, that they would stand by you through it all —  _ that  _ was beautiful. To Jyn — a woman who’d never had family or friends in her life, thanks to the war — it was wonderful sounding. If she was part of a soulmate bond, she’d know she wasn’t alone, even when she felt like it. 

Of course, as most beautiful things, it wasn’t all as it seemed.

If the soulmates did not find each other within a year, the eldest would never wake up. The second half of the bond would be destined to live their life without their complementary pair.

_ That was terrifying.  _

She realized just how sensitive this mission was. 

If she failed, a man would die. 

She ran her hands along the hologram system as she thought about it all. It was a daunting mission — one that she couldn’t screw up.

_ Jyn promised herself — she wouldn’t fail.  _

With that decided, she flicked on the hologram system.

All the images that came to life unfamiliar.

There were so many videos to choose from, so many things she needed to see. The droid was right earlier — if she was going to succeed in this mission, she needed to know who she was saving.

Her hand hovered over one video. She couldn't be bothered to figure out  _ what  _ the video was about, not in that moment anyway. She focused on the tiny icon in the corner of the menu. 

_ His face.  _

Without another second of hesitation, she pushed the play button.

_ And, suddenly, everything came to life. _

The ship that felt like a stranger to her — this life of his that felt so distant from hers — all came into focus as she put a face to the name.

_ Cassian. _

Jyn slid into the chair in front of the screen, moving to get a better look at the hologram. The man was laughing at something, and Jyn couldn’t help but smile in response. Cassian didn’t look like what she expected. Although, then again, what  _ did  _ she expect?

Cassian had dark brown hair that hung over his forehead, obstructing the view of his eyes. His smile reached all corners of his face, crinkling his eyes and dimpling his cheeks. Jyn noted that his whole body was thrown into the laugh; his arms curled around his middle, his head flew back, his shoulders shook with the force of it.

He was beautiful.

“That’s Cassian,” K2 said, breaking the silence. Jyn didn’t look away from the hologram of him laughing. “Cassian Andor is his name. He is 25 years old.”

Jyn was almost afraid to know. “How long? How long until his twenty-sixth birthday?” That would be the day that marked one year of his slumber, thus ending her mission if she wasn’t successful. 

“Eight months and two days.” 

That didn’t leave much time.

She still couldn’t take her eyes off of the man in the hologram. She could see more details of his face after he threw his head back to laugh. His eyes were a rich brown, a colour so deep that she could get lost in them. 

She tore her gaze away from the hologram and tried to calm her racing heart. She attributed the physical response to the nerves and pressure she felt in that moment. 

“Why?” she asked. “Why me?”

“You are not the first or only person to show interest in this role,” K-2 said. “None were qualified for the job, none were willing to give up their livelihood to complete the mission, none wanted to get involved with soulmates bonds. You’re… different. Your behaviour is continually unexpected.”

Jyn glanced back at the image of Cassian. She couldn’t imagine someone refusing to help him, she couldn’t imagine anyone turning down the job of seeker. How could anyone value their own lives above his own? What was sacrificing eight months of their lives compared to a lifetime of his?

“You are the perfect seeker,” the droid continued.

“Why’s that?”

“I have analyzed your personality. There is only a two percent chance that you are Cassian’s soulmate. Your personalities do not align.”

Jyn laughed and turned back to the droid. “Lucky me. I get to cross one female off of my list. Only a few billion to go, right?”

* * *

The job would’ve been easier if she could talk to him.

Jyn discovered this after the first week on mission. She spent more time in front of the hologram system than she did sleep, yet she didn’t feel much further ahead than the day she met K-2SO in the bar.

She needed to understand him to be able to help him. Her goal was to find the matching half of the soul bond before the end of eight months, which felt nearly impossible, considering she barely knew  _ his  _ half of the soul bond.

She watched as much as she could. When she awoke, she’d sit with a bowl of porridge and a drink and watch until the sun rose beyond the horizon. And, later, when it disappeared behind the horizon again, she’d still be watching.

It was hard to know where to start. There were holograms detailing years of his life. Some holograms were of him doing something, obviously recorded by someone watching him. She started with one hologram of him repairing his ship unsuccessfully.

That was the one she learned he had a foul mouth. She couldn’t help but laugh at his frustration — he looked so confused and so exhausted, and it was hilarious in a way.

At times, it felt like she was watching his personal journal. He’d sit in front of a recorder and  _ talk.  _ Those were her favourite holograms — the ones of him talking about his day or his mission or whatever.

At first, she might’ve said he was  confident and head-strong and arrogant. He didn’t think about what he was doing if it was an order, even if he didn’t agree with it. And, while that was true, she quickly learned there was more to Cassian than what originally met the eye.  _ In fact, there was more to him than what was shown in the holograms.  _

He was a good solider and selfless. He gave himself to a cause because he knew that it was the right thing to do. He did the  _ right  _ things, not the  _ easy  _ things, which spoke for itself. He was brave, and resilient, and resourceful. 

She watched his logs from missions he went on during the war, and it was hard to fathom that he was real. How could anyone go through  _ that much  _ and still be standing? How could anyone fall so many times  — lose so much hope — and still come back stronger. 

She quickly learned that he was resilient. He was kind. He reckless, sure, but there was so much strength and so much passion in him.

And, when she was confident that she understood him well enough to find the other half to his soul, she began her journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> You can find the moodboard for this fic [here](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com/post/189968837922/the-soulmate-and-the-seeker-rated-t-complete)!


	2. The Start

“Kind,” the hologram of Cassian said. A spoon hung haphazardly from between Jyn’s lips as she rewatched the log. “I… I hope whoever my soulmate is, she is kind. Selfless, maybe? Or, maybe not. I don’t know.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. 

He looked exhausted. Jyn wondered if he had slept recently before recording himself. According to the dates of the log, he was nearing his twenty-fifth birthday. The thought of going to sleep and possibly never waking up probably kept him up at night. She knew it would keep  _ her  _ up at night. 

“Stars,” he groaned. “When I say selfless, I don’t mean that she’s willing to give me everything. I’m not hoping for someone that will give everything to me. I’m not that person.” He glanced at the recording device from between his fingers. She could almost pretend he was looking straight at her. “Although, I hope you know that by now. I hope you know I want an  _ equal. A partner.  _ Not someone who is selfless and gives and gives and gives because I want to take it all. But someone who isn’t afraid to give if it’s something they care about. Or someone who is willing to give a little if it’s something in their heart.”

This wasn’t the first time Jyn watched this hologram message. It was one of her favourites to revisit over the last two weeks. In the years leading up to this one, he was reserved, unsure, hesitant. After he turned twenty-four, he seemed to lose those reservations and cut to the chase.

She liked to hear what he wanted in a soulmate — she liked listening to who he thought he’d end up with. It sure as hell would make searching for her easier.

Beyond that, she liked the passion he had in this message. He rambled about anything that came to his mind, and she liked it. She expected this was as close as she could get to his thought process — as close as she could get to seeing his true self.

“I know I should’ve given it more thought,” he continued. “Kay always tells me that.” He looked away from the screen, as if he was looking at something behind it, and smirked. Jyn smiled in response. “Don’t you, Kay? You like to remind me of that often.”

“I remind you of many things, Cassian. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

Jyn laughed at the same time Cassian did. For a moment, she felt like she was there with him — there in the moment. She wasn’t watching a recording of the past, but she was sitting here with him.

“It’s fine. I already know your answer.” Cassian turned back to the recording device. “I know I should’ve given more thought to who I want my soulmate to be. I know that will make your job easier.”

_ It would. Please, for the love of all things good, tell me who you want me to find. _

“But it feels wrong.” The amusement from earlier faded away. His head fell to his hands. “I… I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t like thinking about the fact that one day, I’ll be here and the next, I won’t. I’ll fall asleep like I usually do and, when I wake up, my soulmate will be standing over me.” He chuckled humorlessly.  _ “If _ I wake up.”

“The chances of you not waking up are—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know they’re high, alright? I know…” He straightened. “I don’t like thinking about how things are going to change. I don’t know. Change sucks.”

“Change is inevitable,” K-2 chimed in off-screen.

They both fell silent. Jyn knew what came next; Cassian would leave frame, he’d go and argue with K-2 a bit — all with love and light-heartedness. It left her a few minutes to gather a few items for her pack.

By the time Cassian returned to frame, she nearly had her full bag packed. She glanced at the hologram from across the ship, unable to take her eyes off of him.

“This is weird,” he said after a long pause. “I don’t… what I need to do and what Kay needs me to do… I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to imagine who I could end up with, even though I should. I don’t want to envision her because my soulmate could be anyone.  _ And I’d be happy with that.  _ I don’t want to say who I think she should be because I have no expectations. I don’t even know her yet, and I love her already.

“I guess that’s weird too. Fuck.” 

Jyn paused what she was doing to watch how his expression changed. The way his lips turned and his eyes squeezed and his shoulder tensed were all intriguing and captivating. 

“Kay says it’s impossible to love someone without knowing them. Logically, it makes sense.” And Cassian was a man about logic — that much, Jyn knew. “But I just… I feel it. I know no accounts of soulmates say they can feel each other like this, but — I swear — I can feel something. A pull. A… heart? I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining it all.” He looked crestfallen. Jyn turned away to continue packing, unable to watch his heartbreak and confusion. “I know she’s out there. I know it and I  _ feel it  _ and—“ He blew out a calming breath.

“You’re supposed to be describing who she is,” K-2 reminded him. “This is…” He trailed off.

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“Not that.”

“I guess.” He turned back to the recording device. “I think I’m done for today.”

“Cassian—“

“I don’t know what to say!” He pushed away from the desk. “I don’t know what—“

That was where that hologram message ended.

Without Cassian’s voice, the ship felt emptier than it did when she first stepped aboard. 

At least, all those weeks ago, she didn’t know what could be missing. Right now, she knew it was missing Cassian’s fire, and his joy, and his spirit.

She grinned to herself as she tied her bag.

_ His soul. _

That was fitting.

She switched off the hologram system, grabbed her bag, and left the ship for the first time in weeks.

* * *

The planet of Sorgan was Jyn’s first attempt at finding his soulmate.

She had been to this planet in the Outer Rim many years ago, not too long before the Empire fell. It was lightly populated and even less travelled, which allowed it to slip passed the gaze of the Empire and many others. It was a good place to lay low, which was what she did.

She knew the planet well. The green trees used to be her home. The scent of the moist ground was familiar to her, even if it was overwhelming once again. Everything was damp, and potent, and  _ alive.  _ It was so unlike the vast cities she spent the last few years travelling around. She couldn’t smell smog, even when she approached one of the smaller towns.

It was on this planet that she began her attempt to find Cassian Andor’s soulmate. Before she departed, K-2SO told her that he and Cassian searched most of the Inner and Mid Rim planets after the war had ended and the galaxy seemed to find some semblance of peace. She assumed this was why she was qualified; she knew the Outer Rim, the last unsearched regions of the galaxy, better than she knew anywhere else.

It had been three weeks since she visited the bar on the horrid planet she met K-2 on. She almost forgot how much she hated crowds and people during her time alone on the ship. Now, sitting in the farthest and darkest corner, she remembered.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her mind was sharp. Her fingers danced along the grip of her blaster, unable to let go of the unease that came with being surrounded by people she didn’t know.

There were thirteen people in the bar, the majority of which being male. According to K-2, the second half of the soul bond was expected to be female and humanoid, which helped in ruling out large sections of the population.

Five.

There were five females in the bar, six including herself. 

She blew out a long breath and took a long swig of her drink. She spent three weeks preparing for this moment, and now it was the true test. She was going to see if she knew Cassian as well as she thought she did, and she was going to see if she knew how to pick out potential soulmates from a crowd.

The second half was trickier than she thought it was going to be. Part of her hoped that it would be easy to identify soulmates; maybe they would have a special mark to signify the match, or maybe they’d speak a certain phrase, or maybe they had a special feeling inside their chests that let them know.

Of course, logicly, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

After all, K-2 warned her that the mission would likely take the full eight months to complete. If it was going to be easy, she’d be done the search in no time. On top of that, if it was as simple as something obvious, Cassian would’ve been able to find his soulmate before his twenty-fifth birthday. He was smart and resourceful enough if that was the case.

_ Huh. _

It was weird to think of him like she knew him, when — in reality — they were still two strangers. Sure, she watched dozens of hours of holograms from him, but that didn’t change the fact she never seen him in person, nor did it change the fact that he didn’t know she existed.

Jyn pulled out her long-range comm from her bag and brought it to her lips. “Kay. Come in, Kay. Are you there?”

Static was her immediate answer. She tapped the device anxiously, her eyes scanning across the patrons steadily. Now that she was in the field, everything felt more daunting. She half-wished the irritating droid was with her now. At least he understood how to pick out potential soulmates from a crowd.

She pressed the button again. “Kay. Come in, Kay.”

A minute passed before she received a response. “I am here, Jyn.”

She bit down on her cheek. “What took you so long?” she snapped, her unease coming out as anger.

“Oh,” he said sarcastically, “I’m sorry. Am I expected to wait at the comms systems all day now?”

“It’s not like you have anything better to do.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. With Cassian unconscious, she knew he didn’t have much to do. Before his twenty-fifth birthday, K-2 was off on missions with him, rarely having a day of rest. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Tense?”

Jyn blew out an even breath. “Yeah. Tense.” She knew K-2 struggled with the fact his best and closest friend was unconscious. After all, there was no guarantee that he’d ever wake up. “How are things? Everything’s fine over there?”

“Things are fine, although I doubt you decided to call to engage in odd human pleasantries such as this. What do you need?”

She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for here. I need some help.”

“Jyn…”

“I know, I’m supposed to be doing this on my own — that’s why I was hired, isn’t it? But I just— I can’t figure it out. I’m sitting here, and all I see is people. How am I— How am I supposed to figure out if any of them are worth approaching? I can’t very well do  _ all  _ of them.”

She went over the procedures before she arrived. While she took the time to learn about Cassian and watch his holograms, she also took the time to research into soulmate bonds. One of the more detailed books she read was written by the woman that found her own soulmate before her twenty-fifth birthday.

_ It’s a feeling,  _ she described.  _ When I found her, I knew. I didn’t have to kiss her to figure out we were meant for each other. I knew. _

When she first read that sentence, Jyn slammed the book shut with annoyance. She wasn’t Cassian. She didn’t have these  _ feelings  _ when looking at people. She couldn’t  _ just tell  _ by looking at people.

A more helpful guide — albeit, much older and more vague — was written by the mother of the original soulmate, who took on the mantle of soulmate seeker. It was this guide that described the process of looking at personalities and habits.

“We’ve been over this, Jyn,” Kay said, sounding even more tired than she was.

“I know, but… Fine.” Her leg bounced from nerves. “I’m just nervous, alright? It’s a big responsibility. I don’t want to fuck up.”

“You will not — as you so elegantly put it — fuck up.” Jyn laughed at that. “If you want, I can go over the process again, it really isn’t—”

“No.” She leaned back in her chair and forced her voice to sound convincing. “You’re right. I know it.” She knew before she called that K-2 couldn’t provide any more information than she already had. She just wished he’d be able to tell her exactly what to look for. She wished things were easier than they were. “I’ll check in later, alright?”

“As you said, I have nothing better to do than to wait by the comms. I’ll be here.”

Jyn smiled. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” He never responded and she her smile grew. He acted like she was a thorn in his side, but she knew he enjoyed her banter. She enjoyed his too, even though she’d never admit it. “Bye, Kay.”

With that, she clicked off the comms and shoved it back into her bag. 

K-2 was right. She prepared for this moment. It was going to be fine.

Over the course of the next two weeks, she returned to the bar to observe. She knew this job would require patience. She had to be stealthy, a patient, and analytical. With each person that entered the bar, she ran through her procedure.

_ Humanoid. Female. Under twenty-five.  _ If they met all three of the basic criteria, she waited.

_ And waited, and waited, and waited, and _ —

It was mind-numbing.

Part of the process was watching them and determining who they were. Did their personalities align with Cassian’s? Would they get along? Could she be the other half of Cassian’s soul bond?

Judging people from afar was a skill she picked up during the war. To survive, she had to watch, wait, and make calls on people.  _ Were they trustworthy? Did they appear to be who they said they were? What were their goals, their fears, their ambitions?  _ Details like these were what kept her alive for so long.

She hoped those same details would keep Cassian alive passed his twenty-sixth birthday.

* * *

She gave up on Sorgan.

It was infuriating. After two weeks of waiting and watching, she only ever spoke to four people she narrowed down as potential soulmates. Even getting to that point had been a challenge.

Without much of a description from Cassian, Jyn had to take her best guess at who would compliment him. She couldn’t be looking for someone that was a mirror image of him — she thought they would clash too much that way. She also didn’t want to look for someone completely opposite of him — they would struggle to get along and click.

She decided to look for some of his traits in the people she stumbled across. Bravery, and resilience, and strength, and — yes — kindness and selflessness too.

She was beginning to understand that feeling Cassian described in one of his hologram messages. Maybe she wasn’t looking for her own soulmate, thus she didn’t completely understand, but she could feel it in her soul—

_ This wasn’t right. _

None of the people she saw on Sorgan felt right. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was more of a feeling based decision that logical, and that was something she didn’t often do.

But she didn’t have anything else to go on.

She trusted her gut.

She left.

* * *

Cassian looked more exhausted than she ever saw him before. She doubted he slept in weeks. Dark circles under his eyes were prominent. His lips were chapped. His beard was thicker than he usually kept it.

Jyn hadn’t watched this log before. She had been avoiding any of the logs around this time period because she wasn’t sure if she could handle it.

She was surprised at how young he looked. He would’ve been twenty-years old at the time, maybe nineteen depending on birthdays. 

He slumped against a tree and slid to the ground ungracefully. It looked like he was in a forest somewhere. In the distance, she could hear the coos of animals and the wind in the trees.

When the recording device in his hands steadied, it looked like he was looking straight into her soul. He looked haunted — tired — lost. 

Her hand twitched at her side, the sudden desire to brush her hand against his overwhelming her for a brief moment. Seeing him so torn it made her  _ need  _ to comfort him.

She clenched her fist and placed it in her lap.

“The war ended today,” he said, his voice hoarse. At hearing those words, Jyn’s heart hammered a little harder. “It’s only been a few hours since weapons stopped firing. I can’t… I can’t think. I don’t know what to think.

“I’m happy. I’m really happy. I know I don’t look it, but I am. I’ve been in this war my whole life. Ever since I was a kid. This… This Empire — it took too much from me. My family, my childhood, my life, my innocence.” His smile wasn’t genuine. She could tell. “I’m happy that it’s gone.”

The haunted look in his eye — the lack of smile on his face — it was an odd echo of what she remembered of this exact night.

She was seventeen. The war ended — the war that took so much from her. When she woke up, the galaxy was under the Imperial Empire. When she went to bed, they were liberated.

The loss and confusion evident on Cassian’s face was familiar.

“I should be celebrating with the others.” His gaze flick in the distance. “We’re on Endor. That’s where the planet killer fell. The Death Star.” He focused back on what felt like her. “I’m just confused right now. The war… the war is all I knew. And now… I don’t know. Now what? What am I doing? What am I going to do?

“My whole life has been this structure. Work, fight, train, spy, do it all over again. Now they’re telling me I don’t have to do that anymore. I’m afraid. What do I do beyond that?”

Jyn felt frozen. It was as if she was watching a recording of herself. She remembered these feelings perfectly.

“The Emperor is gone. Vader is gone. The galaxy is free. I get it. I get the idea. But… Fuck, maybe I’m a pessimist, but just because they’re gone doesn’t mean everything is solved. It doesn’t mean the galaxy suddenly has peace.

“It’s funny,” he said, even though there was nothing funny about it. “I was standing there, celebrating because this fucking war is done, and then… It hit me. I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow.” He laughed. “That’s never happened to me before. I’ve never  _ not  _ had plans.”

Jyn once again wanted to reach through the screen. She wanted to reach through time and space. She wanted to tell him — to promise him — that things were going to be okay. 

This much, she could promise. She had seen it through his eyes — through the holograms. He’d figure it out. He’d be okay.

“The rebellion has been my life. I’m not too sure what I’m supposed to do now that the mission is complete.” Cassian sighed and hauled himself off the ground. “I’ll figure it out.”

_ You did,  _ she wanted to tell him.  _ You figured it out. You always will. _

* * *

“No luck on Jelucan,” Jyn reported. 

She sat in the cockpit, the heater cranked to the highest setting and her coat pulled right around her shoulders. 

While, three months ago, she complained about the scorching planet she met K-2 on, she would almost trade the cold for the heat now. 

“I talked to a few people, but it didn’t feel right. They were hostile.” Jyn pulled out her blaster from her holster and examined it.

“Did you kill anyone?” K-2 asked, sounding personally offended. 

“If I did, you won’t have to worry about it. I handled it.” She tossed her blaster into the seat next to her and sighed. “I hit up three major cities on Jelucan, but nothing’s jumping out at me. I would say I’m doing it wrong, but I don’t think there’s exactly a right way.” She peeled off her coat and shivered. “How are things back there?”

While nothing ever changed, she felt like she had to ask. K-2 was on Fest with Cassian, with nobody to keep him company. His job was a lonely one; he was in charge of keeping Cassian’s body healthy and protected until he woke up.

“He is exactly where he was the last time you asked,” he responded dryly. “Still asleep.”

“Wow, thank you, Kay. I had no idea.”

“I believe you and I will be the first two to know if his status changes,” he continued. “One way or another.”

She cringed at that. She didn’t want to think of the fact him not waking up was a very real possibility.

“I wasn’t asking about his status. I know he’s unconscious.” She shook her head. “Never mind.” She reached for the navigation system and began to comb through the nearby planets. “I’m hoping to hit at least two more this month, to make up for lost time at the start. What do you think?”

He agreed, even though she could tell he hoped she would be able to cover more distance quicker. She hoped the same.

Just before she was going to end the comm, he called out for her.

“And Jyn? Just because it is highly populated, it doesn't mean there is no population elsewhere. Try checking less populated areas as well.”

Her hands stilled. A wash of panic hit her.

_ She had been checking main cities only. _

There were hundreds — thousands, possibly — of tiny villages and independent farms across each planet.

How would she be able to check them all? 

She was already feeling the pressure of so many planets to check in the galaxy, but now—

“Sure,” she said, forcing herself to remain nonchalant. “Will do. Thanks, Kay.”

She shut the hologram comm off and fell backwards in the pilot’s seat. Her heart pounded with her thoughts of time limits and large distances and vast populations. 

To keep the edges of panic away, she busied herself with selecting the next planet and plotting the journey.

_ Yes. She’d always been good at running, even if she had nothing to run from. _

By the time she set the ship into hyperspace, her mind was silent.

* * *

The thing about being alone was that her thoughts were loud.

There was no distraction, no noise to fill her mind, no people to pull her away from worries and panic.

Hours after she ended her call with K-2, she was back on the edge — balancing, thinking, worrying, wondering.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, tattooing a pattern across her ribs. She almost forgot she was alone in that moment, with the tremendous sound of rushing blood through her ears masking the dead silence of space.

There were so many people in the galaxy, and she was looking for one.

_ She was going to fail. _

There was no way that she’d be able to check every planet and every village and every trading post. She would barely be able to check half of those, and that was if she was lucky.

Jyn felt sick with panic.

(Faintly, she wondered when this mission became so important to her.)

With each passing second, the feelings got worse. Her stomach turned, her skin crawled, her throat tightened.

_ Run, run, run, run— _

She stood up abruptly from the chair and stumbled into the back cabin. Her eyes locked on the hologram playback system and her chest tightened.

She needed something to run to — something to distract herself from the growing dread and tides of panic.

Jyn pressed play on one of the logs, desperate to forget everything she was worried about in that moment. Cassian had a habit of helping her do that. Watching him talk pulled her into his world — his moments — his life.

It was peaceful.

“I found a droid today,” Cassian said, his voice whispered. The hologram was poorly-lit. It looked like he was hiding; his hood was up, his shoulders hunched, he stood in the shadows.

Jyn sunk to the seat in front of the hologram, the lump in her throat subsiding after only a few seconds. She studied the hologram closely.

_ Cassian.  _ She didn’t stop herself this time; her hand lifted and passed through one of his blue-tinged cheeks.

“He’s Imperial, but we managed to wipe his memory. I think. I hope.” He busied himself off-screen, pulling at something. He swore. Jyn felt her lips tug at that.  _ Foul mouthed.  _ “Rewiring something like this is going to take a lot of work. I’m talking about base programming here. It’s not impossible to do, but…”

_ But it feels like that sometimes. _

Jyn could feel the echo of that — right then, right there.

She was facing a nearly impossible journey across the galaxy, searching for one person that could compliment Cassian’s soul.  _ One person out of billions.  _ It wasn’t impossible — she knew this because Kay told her — but it sure felt like it in that moment.

“One step at a time though, right?” Cassian paused and  _ stared  _ at her. Jyn stared back. “We take it one step at a time and, eventually, it’ll be done. That’s all.”

_ One step at a time. _

_ One planet at a time. _

_ One person at a time. _

Jyn swallowed thickly and tried to focus on Cassian’s words. He was right, she knew that much. It was hard to stop her mind from racing ahead though.

“I know I’ll be able to do it. Just needs some time and sacrifice.” He slapped his hand against something hollow and metal beyond the recording device. “Right? He’s a KX droid. He—“

Jyn focused on his voice as he described K-2SO. She focused on the way his words seemed to come from deep within him. She focused on the way his face moved as he spoke. She focused on the way watching him made her feel less alone.

That was one thing about Cassian; he  _ never _ made her feel alone.

* * *

“I’m concerned,” she said, her eyes locked on the dash of controls. K-2 was on the other end of the comms, yet she couldn’t bring it in herself to look at him. 

“You are always concerned,” he responded.

“I think I fucked up.” Finally, she brought her eyes to look at him. “I’ve only been to a handful of planets, and I average on two stops per planet. Sometimes less. Sometimes more.”

“I… don’t see what is concerning.”

He was lying. When the hell did droids learn how to lie? It must’ve been Cassian’s programming.

“I’m missing hundreds of people — thousands, even. Not everyone comes to the taverns I stop at, and I don’t go door to door looking for people that fit the description.” Jyn tapped her fingers. “What if I’ve already missed her? Because I wasn’t looking in the right places?”

K-2 was silent.

The worry grew.

“Kay?” she pressed. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” He didn’t have to finish his thought for her to understand.  _ Unfortunately, I heard you. _

She didn’t know what to say. The thought had been plaguing her mind for a few days now and she needed to tell him. After all, he was the only family Cassian had left — he deserved to know if she fucked it all up.

“I… I believe you have not fucked up.” He spoke hesitantly. “You are searching for Cassian’s soulmate. They will likely already be drawn together, in one way or another.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Cassian and the soulmate are meant to find each other. If that wasn’t the case, there would be no point in soulmates. The bond would just… result in fatalities, while the point of them are for life and founding new life.” Right. Procreation. Children. Life. “It is likely that the soulmates are already finding their way towards each other.”

Jyn blew out a long breath. “I don’t know.”

“The probability of the soulmate being in one of the populated cities is high. Don't be so concerned.”

K-2 fell silent after that. 

Jyn wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, or if he was lying to make her feel better. She could hear the concern in his voice.

“Okay,” she said. She hoped she was a better liar than he was. “You’re right.”

“You will find that is often the case.” Jyn smiled at his response.

“I’ll keep you posted.”

Jyn shut off the comms and stared out into the dead of space. Despite his words, she didn’t feel reassured.

That night, she found herself watching more logs from Cassian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! Thanks for reading. Happy New Year :)


	3. The Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I increased the chapter count of this fic by one. I originally planned for this chapter to be long, but it worked out better to end it here.
> 
> Enjoy.

When Jyn stumbled upon some of Cassian’s possessions, she wasn’t too sure what to feel.

She’d been digging through the drawer under the bunk at the back when she came across one remaining piece of him. Over the last few months, she’d made the ship her home, and the feeling of ghosts and coldness disappeared.  _ She wasn’t a stranger on Rogue. Rogue was her home. _

But, when she pulled out the navy blue jacket from under the bed, those same feelings returned.

This was Cassian’s jacket.

Jyn brushed her fingers across the fabric on the front, feeling every fold and seam. Her mouth had run completely dry. Her stomach flipped a few times.

There was something so  _ weird  _ about finding a jacket that belonged to him; a man lightyears away, caught in a nearly unbreakable slumber, waiting for her to return with his soulmate. 

He didn’t know she existed. 

She didn’t know if he’d ever wake. 

The jacket felt like a cold and harsh reminder of all of that. 

Even though she knew he was back on Fest, still  _ very much alive,  _ his jacket felt like a ghost to her. It felt like a reminder that he was  _ real,  _ not just a hologram recording. He was  _ alive,  _ although his fate wasn’t guaranteed.

That thought felt like a knife in the gut.

Jyn sealed it back in the drawer.

She didn’t go searching the bunks again.

* * *

—until five weeks later.

Jyn was approaching Agamar when she realized she didn’t know where she put her thick coat.

She searched the whole ship several times over before she came to the conclusion that she lost it. It was bound to happen sometime — she had been hopping from planet to planet so quickly that it was a miracle she didn’t lose more things.

She sat heavily on the bunk and blew out a long breath. She needed to find a jacket  _ now.  _ She was sure she could buy one at the next trading post, but she knew the ones on Agamar would mark them up. She’d rather freeze to death than pay those prices.

Except, she didn’t really want to freeze to death either.

Agamar was an icy planet, and she’d be landing within ten minutes. It was already near dusk, which meant the temperatures would be dropping soon. She needed to get to the closest tavern and scope out the place before the sun set so she could plan for the upcoming week.

She didn’t have a choice.

Jyn yanked the drawer under the bunk open and pulled out Cassian’s navy blue jacket.

It felt as cold and empty as it did a few weeks ago.

She studied the fabric for a long minute, her mind swirling with debate. In the end, her logical side won out and she shrugged it on.

Her fingers lingered on the collar as soon as it was on. She couldn’t explain her erratic heartbeat, nor the way it felt like electricity passed through her spine, nor the way it felt  _ warm.  _ In ways she couldn’t describe, it felt like it fit, despite it being several sizes too big.

When she brushed her hands along the fabric, she felt a few blaster scorches and a few rips. One blaster scorch against her left ribs made her wince from ghostly pain. The jagged seam across the right bicep brought a smile to her lips.

She remembered watching one of Cassian’s logs as he attempted to sew up a tear on the right bicep of this very jacket. He claimed he had no idea how to mend clothing properly. Jyn could tell — she had the proof in her hands.

This memory of the hologram message brought a lump to her throat. Fuck, when did she get so attached to this man? When did she get so attached to this mission? They were strangers. It didn’t matter.  _ This didn’t matter. _

Except, it did.

She felt connected to him in that moment — connected by an inexplicable force that managed to stretch time and space. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know each other. It didn’t matter that he wore this years ago while talking to a machine. It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that she cared about him.

He was more than a mission to her, more than an assignment, more than a faceless person she was trying to save. Before, when she accepted the job from Kay, she cared about him out of circumstance. She cared about him because that was her job.

This went beyond that now.

She cared about the man that threw his whole body and soul into a laugh; she cared about the man that gave his all for the rebellion that he believed in; she cared about the man that did everything in his power to salvage an Imperial droid; she cared about the man with the foul mouth, and the man that was a horrible morning person, and the man that could fly a ship with his eyes closed.

She cared about Cassian.

Jyn sunk to the bed, her heart constricting in her chest. 

She didn’t move until the ship rocked as it entered the atmosphere.

* * *

Jyn couldn’t remember the last time she cared about someone — really, truly, deeply cared.

She lay in the back bunks, her eyes tracing the nearly invisible patterns on the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep, despite having tried for hours.

She spent her life running.  _ That was how she survived.  _ She hopped from planet to planet — similar to what she was doing now — never staying long enough to call anywhere home. The day the Empire took her family and her home was the last day she stayed anywhere long enough to have either.

She survived by closing herself off. If she didn’t love anything then they couldn’t hurt her. The more distant she was, the safer she was. This was how she protected herself from pain and loss.

_ Don’t get attached. _

The first thing that managed to break through this was Saw, the man who raised her since she was young. He was the one to teach her this.

_ Don’t get attached to anything. Don’t give them that advantage. _

The second thing that managed to break through this was Cassian.

Maybe it was because she knew him better than she knew anyone else. This was the fourth month searching for his soulmate, which meant she had spent every day for the last four months learning more about him.

_ Watching hologram messages, studying his personality, learning his quirks, understanding his thoughts. _

It was necessary for the job.

Realizing that she cared about him was terrifying, and petrifying, and exhilarating, and beautiful, and—

She cared about Cassian.

* * *

On Raada, a small agricultural-focused moon in the Outer Rim, she met Bree — a woman that she was  _ sure _ was Cassian’s soulmate.

As soon as Jyn managed to land on the once-abandoned moon, Bree came to greet her. Her flame-red hair was pulled back into a braid, standing out brilliantly against her green robes. There was something about her — something unfamiliar — that tugged at Jyn as soon as she saw her.

_ Is this that feeling?  _ she wondered.  _ Is this the feeling they described in the guides? Is this what it feels to know you found the second half of the soul bond? _

It was only after an introduction and a welcome did Jyn  _ really, truly know  _ that Bree was Cassian’s soulmate.

“Your jacket.” 

“My jacket?” 

Bree gestured to it, her expression masked. Jyn glanced down at it.

_ Oh. _

_ The jacket. _

She still wore the dark blue and much too large coat from the previous planet. There was a chill that she hadn’t been able to shake after the snow-covered moon, no matter how long she sat against the heaters.

_ Cassian. _

It was Cassian’s jacket. 

“You fought with the Rebel Alliance?” Bree questioned. Jyn’s hand inched closer to her blaster, her heart hammering in her chest.  _ How did she know Cassian fought? How did she know about his jacket? How did _ — 

She needed to leave.

Before Jyn could make a move towards  _ Rogue,  _ Bree stepped forward, her hand outstretched towards her left shoulder. On pure instinct, Jyn swatted her hand away and pulled out her blaster. By the time Bree regained her balance, Jyn’s blaster was pointed at her chest and she had stepped into a defensive stance.

“Woah,” Bree said, her hands rising in surrender. “Your patch. On your arm. It marks ranks of the Rebel Alliance.”

Jyn didn’t glance away from her. Her heart was pounding and her hands felt weak from adrenaline. When Bree moved, she took a step forward in silent warning.

“Stop,” Jyn warned, her voice coming out like venom. “Don’t make me—”

“What? Blast me?” She cocked an eyebrow. Jyn didn’t respond. Taking this as permission, Bree lifted the sleeve of her green robes.

A black tattoo wound around her left bicep and Jyn recognized it instantly. She used to be part of the Rebel Alliance too.

Jyn lowered her gun slowly.

“That’s how I recognized your patch,” she explained. “I have one myself, back on one of my cloaks.” She eyed her. “What’d you serve?”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I—” Jyn wet her lips. “This jacket belongs to a friend.”

_ A friend. Cassian. _

Jyn thought back to the unfamiliar feeling she got when she was first greeted by Bree and now this.  _ She fought with the Rebellion, too, just like Cassian.  _ And, as Jyn learned, Bree was also a spy during the war.

_ Just like Cassian. _

There were other things, here and there; the way she was as fiery as her hair, the way she spoke with such passion about the Rebellion, the way she cared. It was all an echo of Cassian.

She was so sure that Bree was Cassian’s soulmate —  _ so, so, so sure  _ — that she followed the procedure detailing what came next. 

_ Find the soulmate. Bring them back. Share in true love’s kiss. _

It was something she hadn’t done before. Over the course of the last four months, there hadn’t been a single person Jyn thought could’ve been Cassian’s soulmate. Bree was the first one.

And,  _ hopefully,  _ Bree was  _ the  _ one.

For the first time, Jyn had to tell someone else about her mission. Telling someone about Cassian and soulmates made her skin crawl. She attributed her unease due to how secret her job was; after all, she spent  _ months  _ keeping these secrets.

(No. It wasn’t due to anything else. She was sure about that.)

(Really.)

As soon as she got Bree to agree to come with her to Fest, she called Kay.

“Kay? Come in Kay.”

She was used to waiting for him to respond.

Several minutes later, she heard him. “Received, Jyn. Any updates from Raada?”

“I…” Jyn glanced behind her, towards the living area, where she instructed Bree to wait in. “I found someone.”

Kay was silent for a long moment. Jyn’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Found someone? I need you to be more specific.”

“I think I might’ve found his soulmate.” Jyn bit her lip and let her eyes slide closed. It felt so strange saying that. It felt wrong. Maybe it was because it was the first time she spoke those words — it was the first time she dared hope. “I found her on Raada.”

“You are sure?”

“I’m as sure as I’ve ever been.” Jyn let her fingers brush across the front of her jacket.

_ (His jacket, his jacket, his jacket.) _

A strange sadness rose up in her. Hope, too. Relief. Fear.

She dropped her hand to her lap.

“I told her about Cassian. She’s agreed to come to Fest and meet him.” Jyn wrung her fingers together. “We’re on  _ Rogue  _ now.”

“How far away?”

“Still on Raada. I wanted to call you first, just to be sure.”

“To be sure of what?”

She wasn’t sure.

Jyn pinched the bridge of her nose and deeply inhaled several times. His jacket still smelled like him. It smelled like the earth after rain, like the deep woods, like sweat, like life.

She pulled it off and threw it to the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’m coming with her,” she said. “We’ll arrive soon. Be ready.”

“Always am.”

Jyn shut off the comms, but didn’t take flight right away. She sat in the pilot’s seat, her head in her hands, her breathing heavy.

_ Fuck,  _ what was wrong with her?

It was fine. Things were fine. There was nothing to be scared of; she did the right thing telling Bree about Cassian. There was no reason for her to feel so sick with panic.

(Or, at least she  _ thought  _ it was panic.)

After several deep breaths, she managed to steady herself. She glanced at Cassian’s coat one final time.

She piloted the  _ Rogue  _ to take off.

* * *

Jyn hadn’t seen Cassian before.

The realization struck her while she was flying the  _ Rogue _ towards Fest. Her hands stilled over the controls. Her heart lodged itself in her throat.

This was going to be the first time she’d see him.

She watched him in holograms, but she’d never saw him without that blue-tinge. She never saw him with her own two eyes. She had never been in the same room as him. She’d never heard his voice with her own ears before.

It made her skin crawl.

She wondered what he’d look like. Would he look the same as he did in the holograms leading up to his twenty-fifth birthday? Would he look like he was sleeping, or would the true nature of his situation be apparent? 

Strangely, she was nervous.

As soon as she realized this, she knew it was ridiculous. This wasn’t about her; it was about him and Bree. It was about finding the second half of the soulmate bond. It was about completing her job.

Jyn forced her emotions back.

_ She had to complete the job. _

* * *

Cassian’s home was small and cozy. She knew most of it from the hologram messages, and would’ve been able to navigate around the house and the surrounding yard with ease if she needed to.

Luckily, she didn’t need to. K-2SO was standing just outside the house when they landed. Somehow, she could see him through the blizzard they were flying through. Jyn wiped the palms of her hands on her pants nervously and tried to calm her racing heart. She glanced once at Cassian’s coat in the co-pilot seat, seeking strength from it.

_ This was it. Her job was going to end. Things would go back to normal. Everything would be fine. _

She left the cockpit.

“We’re here,” she told Bree. Fest was a cold and sharp planet, which explained why Bree was wrapped in several layers of cloaks. Just as she promised the day they met, a patch similar to Cassian’s was sewn to the outer cloak.

Fest was hell. They arrived in the middle of a blizzard. The amount of snow falling made it nearly impossible to see more than five feet in front of her. The winds bent trees to their will. She could hear the slap of snow pellets against the exterior of  _ Rogue. _

She looked down at her clothing. She wore a simple short-sleeved shirt and cargo pants. She wouldn’t call this climate appropriate, exactly, but the only other option was wearing Cassian’s jacket.

For some reason, that made her stomach twist. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Jyn punched the button to let them outside.

“I’m nervous,” Bree told her as they descended the platform. Jyn could tell. The woman beside her was shaking, and she doubted it had anything to do with the bone-chilling winds.

Jyn shivered and clutched at her arms. Snow pellets stung her exposed skin. Her breath was stolen by the harsh winds.

“You’ll be fine,” she told her. “I promise. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“I’m still scared.”

Jyn forced a smile to her face, even though everything in her heart —  _ in her soul  _ — was telling her there was nothing to be happy about.

“Either you’ll kiss an attractive man and nothing will happen, or you’ll kiss an attractive man and you’ll be his soulmate. They’re both—” She shivered. “They’re both good options.”

“This Cassian is good looking then?” Bree pressed. Jyn shielded her eyes and looked in the direction of Cassian’s home. She could see the faint outline of it through the snow and she started in that direction. “Jyn?”

“Yes,” she forced herself to say. She tried to remain uninterested, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “He’s not the worst looking.”

“That’s not confident sounding.”

Jyn swore under her breath. “I just meant that he’s good looking.” Why was she getting so riled up about this? Cassian was attractive. It was a fact. It wasn’t like she was admitting something deeper than that. Attraction was a basic human emotion, nothing more.  _ There was nothing more with Cassian.  _ “You’ll see for yourself soon.”

When K-2SO caught sight of them, he straightened. Jyn cracked a smile at how animated and lively he seemed for a droid.

“Jyn!” he exclaimed. “Where in the blast is your—”

“Lost it. It’s fine.” She stepped around him and pulled open Cassian’s door. She was met with a tidal wave of warmth.

She was right. She recognized everything from Cassian’s holograms. It felt like she was stepping into her home. It was an odd and fleeting emotion.

She shuffled to the side to allow Bree and Kay back in. The door swung shut behind the trio, sealing them off from the blizzard.

None of them wanted to be the one to break the silence. The space was filled with Jyn’s heavy breathing and tension. She brushed the quickly melting snow from her torso and refused to let her mind wander.

“I’m Bree.” She smiled at K-2. Jyn could still sense her nervousness. “I’m a friend of Jyn’s.

“I was informed.”

Jyn refused to look back at him or her. There was a tightness in her chest that she couldn’t explain — a tightness she didn’t want to explain.

Without another word, K-2 led them towards the back of the house. Jyn knew from the holograms that they were headed towards Cassian’s bedroom. It was one of the rooms she was most familiar with. Many of his holograms were filmed at his desk.

While his ship felt like a ghost when she first stepped on it, she now felt like the ghost in his home.

She recognized the space as if it was hers, despite never having stepped a foot on Fest before. Everything felt distantly familiar, distantly welcoming, distantly comforting. It felt like she belonged in his home.

It made her uneasy.

_ Too attached. Too attached. Too attached. _

She recognized the knitted blanket on the couch as Cassian’s mothers; one of the few possessions he managed to save from his parents. She smiled to herself when she noticed how every room they passed was a mosaic of colours and patterns; Cassian admitted once that he was horrible at design. Him home smelled like his jacket; earthy, warm, calming.

And, when they entered the room she knew was Cassian’s bedroom, she knew why his blanket was a deep blue. She knew it was his favourite colour — that it reminded him of the sky, of the sea, of freedom.

The air left Jyn’s lungs as soon as she saw him.

Cassian.

Her whole body seemed to come alive with him there. Her heart raced, her chest tightened, her stomach swam, her breathing ceased. 

_ Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. _

He looked just as she expected him to. His dark brown hair was familiar to her, as were the way it curled and how it hung towards his eyes. She recognized the slope of his nose, and the curve of his mouth, and the sharpness of his jaw. The broadness of his shoulders and the evenness of his breathing felt familiar to her.

He looked relaxed, like he was sleeping, not in a deep slumber. When he was awake, he looked so much older; she attributed that to the weights and burdens he carried. His expression smoothed out while he slept, like there was not a worry in the world. He looked younger and free.

_ He was beautiful. _

Jyn took half a step towards him before faltering. She was tempted to reach out for him, to close the small distance between their two bodies. Just like so many times while watching his holograms, she wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to  _ seek _ her own comfort in him.

_ No. _

Once again, she reminded herself this was not about her. She was just the seeker — she was not the soulmate.

This was a job. Nothing more.

She turned to Bree. She looked nervous, like she was about to bolt. Jyn reached for her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to kiss him if you don’t want,” she reminded her.

“It’s not that. It’s just… a lot of pressure.” Bree blew out a long breath. “What if he doesn’t wake up?”

_ He will. _

“Then I bring you back to Raada and I continue my search.” Jyn fought to keep a smile on her lips. “No pressure. Either you are or you aren’t. There’s nothing we can do to change that.”

_ There’s nothing we can do to change that. _

She found solace in those words.

When Bree stepped forward, hope stirred in her chest alongside something darker. Jyn desperately wanted Cassian to wake up — she wanted Bree to be his soulmate — but she  _ didn’t  _ at the same time.

She tried her best to ignore those feelings.

Bree inched towards Cassian. Her hand reached for his. Jyn clenched her hand together. Bree studied his expression for a long minute. Jyn took shallow breaths. Then, finally, Bree leaned forward, closing the distance between her and Cassian’s lips.

Jyn looked away.

She hated herself for it. 

She told herself that she looked away because she didn’t want to intrude on this intimate moment. She told herself that her skin prickled because this was Bree and Cassian’s moment; she shouldn’t be watching. She told herself that everything felt wrong because— because—

Bree pulled back.

For a long moment, the three of them stood unmoving, watching Cassian with wide eyes and hope in their chests. Slowly — slowly but surely — the hope bled out of Jyn.

_ He wasn’t stirring. _

This time, Jyn didn’t stop herself from taking a few steps forward. She didn’t dare reach out for him — she was too scared by what the storm brewing inside of her truly meant — but she  _ watched. _

His breathing remained even. His lips remained parted. His expression didn’t shift away from the peaceful serenity granted to him in his sleep. His eyes didn’t flutter like she imagined they would.

K-2 voiced her thoughts. “It was not a true match.” Jyn’s body burned. “I am sorry.”

_ She didn’t know who he was apologizing to; her or Bree. _

Jyn forced her gaze away from Cassian, even though every fibre of her being was telling her to  _ keep staring, move closer, grab his hand, kiss him. _

She locked eyes with Bree. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

The first time Jyn was wrong, it hurt.

The second time wasn’t any easier.

Every time she thought she found his match, she was wrong. With each failure, her heart grew heavier, her hope grew dimmer.

She told them about him. How he was reliable and resilient; funny and honest; caring and passionate. She told them about how wonderful Cassian was, hoping that each person she spoke to would be his soulmate.

_ They weren’t. _

Months passed.

Every time she returned to Fest, she hoped with everything in her that she found the right one. She hoped he would wake up. She  _ needed  _ him to wake up.

_ Please don’t die,  _ she begged.  _ Please don’t go. _

She used to be afraid of him dying because that meant she failed — that his death would be on her hands.

Now, she was afraid that the galaxy would lose someone truly beautiful — both inside and out. She was afraid that he would never wake up. She was afraid she’d never get to meet him. She was afraid that he wouldn’t get to live the life he deserved.

Every time was the same. She’d arrive on Fest. K-2 would greet them. They’d walk into the back bedroom. They’d kiss him.

_ And every fucking time, she looked away. _

No matter how many times she’d get to this point, she always had to look away.

* * *

With only two months until Cassian’s twenty-sixth birthday, Jyn was losing hope. She was running out of time.  _ He  _ was running out of time.

_ Rogue  _ had the coordinates for the next planet plugged in, but she couldn’t bring herself to pilot the ship herself.  _ Not in that moment. Not when she felt so destroyed. _

So she drifted.

As the ship slowly made its way to the next planet, she curled up on the bunk and  _ sobbed.  _ Her whole body ached, not just her heart. She sobbed for Cassian. She sobbed for how scared she was for him. She sobbed for the galaxy’s loss.

Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she clutched the sheets under her. It felt like she was suffocating from the grief crashing against her. It felt like she was being pulled alongside the tide, inching further and further to sea.

She didn’t want to fail. She didn’t want to lose him.

_ (As if he was hers to lose.) _

Jyn’s soul felt like it was burning; slowly, slowly,  _ slowly.  _ She didn’t want to imagine losing him. She didn’t want to imagine how that would tear apart Kay — how it would tear apart her. She wanted to be there when he opened his eyes for the first time in a year, she wanted to be there when he took his first sharp inhale of air, she wanted to hear his voice in person.

_ She wanted him to live. _

_ She needed him to live. _

Cassian had become so important to her over the last six months. She knew him better than anyone in the galaxy; better than anyone across space and time. She trusted him, she cared for him, she—

She loved him.

Her body went still at that realization.

_ She was in love with him. _

Jyn sobbed harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> 


	4. The Seeker

One month.

One month until Cassian turned twenty-six.

Jyn sat in  _ Rogue,  _ staring at the controls for the hologram playback system.

She never had a problem with time slipping away before — only now. Her whole life, the days seemed to crawl by. Now, with Cassian’s fate hanging in the balance, days seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from one of the few hologram messages she hadn’t watched yet. The date of recording was only eleven months in the past.

It was recorded the day before Cassian’s twenty-fifth birthday.

_ Jyn couldn’t bring herself to click it.  _

She stared at the tiny icon in the corner and recognized Cassian’s silhouette. Without opening the log, she could already tell that he was in his room.

The hologram must’ve been taken only hours before he fell into his nearly unbreakable sleep.

Her heart ached. She felt physically sick staring at the last hologram. 

_ The last hologram. _

If she didn’t succeed with her mission, this would be the last recording of Cassian — ever. This would be the last words she heard from him. While she knew the hologram was recorded months ago, the prospect of playing it felt like a goodbye.

_ If she didn’t succeed, this would be their goodbye. _

Jyn switched the playback machine off and pushed away. 

She couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not today. She needed to be working, she needed to be focused and busy and  _ trying. _

She needed to be trying to find his soulmate.

He had one month left and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it. If she failed, she wanted — no,  _ needed — _ to know that she did everything in her power to succeed. She needed to be sure that she did everything she could to help him.

There wasn’t a point in watching any more of his holograms. She already knew who he was. She knew him better than she knew herself at times. If she wasted more precious seconds watching him, she would never forgive herself. The only reason she watched the holograms anymore was to seek her own comfort in them, and that wasn’t benefiting Cassian.

This wasn’t about her. It had never been about her. It was about Cassian.

_ It had always been about Cassian. _

* * *

After leaving a tavern on Jakku, Jyn sucked in a quick breath and glanced towards the sky.

It was a perfect night, not a cloud in sight, no light to pollute the stars, no wind to make her rush back to  _ Rogue.  _ The air was chilled. It didn’t just lack heat now that the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon; it seemingly sucked to heat from her body. 

She pulled the too large coat tighter around her middle and buried her hands in the pockets. Despite being away from him for so long, the navy jacket still smelled distinctly of Cassian.

Earthy. Calm. Home.

_ Home. _

That was a word she had been associating with him a lot lately. It should’ve seemed strange, considering that she never had a home before.

_ But it wasn’t strange. _

_ It felt right. _

As she walked, her eyes remained on the star speckled sky. She wondered how many people were out there — how many planets, how many moons, how many cities and villages. She wondered how many places she managed to visit over the last seven months, and how many she missed.

Jyn had hoped Jakku would be the missing piece of the puzzle. She hoped this was the planet she would find Cassian’s soulmate on.

Once again, she was wrong.

She was growing more desperate as the days passed. It felt like his fate was inevitable. In a way, it was. There was nothing she could do to stop it; she couldn’t grant him more time, she couldn’t wake him, she couldn’t find his soulmate.

Jyn felt helpless.

All she could do was grasp at the thin strands of hope that remained. She couldn’t give up — not now, not when they were so close. She  _ wouldn’t _ give up; not until his chest stopped rising and his fate was sealed.

It was then, walking under the stars in the deep night, that Jyn made another resolution to herself. She wouldn’t rest until she found the other half of the soulmate bond. There was nothing more important to her in that moment. A man’s life was in her hands.

_ Cassian’s life was in her hands.  _

She’d find her. She’d find his soulmate and bring her to him.  _ She would.  _ She refused to abandon all hope. She refused to fail.

Jyn didn’t care what she had to do to succeed. She’d fly to dozens of planets within the next three weeks. She’d visit countless taverns and trading posts. She’d sleep only when the night was silent and  _ Rogue  _ was travelling to her next destination.

She wasn’t going to fail him.

* * *

“Jyn.”

“I’m fine.”

“Jyn.”

“I said _ I’m fine.” _

“No you’re not, Jyn. You’re—”

“What am I?” she snapped, pulling her gaze away from the dash. She was hunched forward in the pilot’s chair and had been for hours. Her shoulders ached. Her back hurt worse. Her mind was fuzzy. 

K-2 straightened, a sign of his indignation and worry. Jyn held his gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable. She felt numb and distant and  _ tired. So fucking tired.  _ But she was desperate too — desperate and unwavering.

“You’re acting reckless, Jyn.”

“I am not.” She pulled her gaze off the familiar droid and busied herself with plotting her course to the next planet. “I’m… I’m working hard. That’s all. I’m a hard worker.”

“You’re working yourself to death. That’s reckless, as far as I know. Death means recklessness behaviour.”

_ (She was desperate.) _

_ (Desperate people took desperate action, and desperate actions were reckless.) _

Jyn gritted her teeth. Her chest felt tight. Her eyes burned.

“I’m fine.” She didn’t dare look at him. “What do you know about death anyways? You can’t die.”

Her comment was followed by a long beat of silence.

Jyn didn’t flinch.

“I see you are in a mood today,” K-2 sighed. “Sensitive question, Jyn. Need I remind you that I know a lot about the death of lifeforms. Cassian—”

Jyn grew rigid. Her eyes snapped to Kay’s. “Don’t,” she warned, her voice cracking. “Don’t say it.”

“His survival is unlikely.”

“Don’t.”

“There are merely two weeks left until his twenty-sixth birthday, upon which he will cease to live. If the soulmate—”

“I said  _ don’t.” _

“—hasn’t been found yet, the odds of them being found are low.  _ Very  _ low.”

Jyn was tempted to punch the button to end the hologram conversation. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She sprung out of the pilot’s seat and paced the short length of the cockpit.

She was drowning. Suffocating. She was being crushed — crushed by the doom hanging over her head, crushed by the looming sense of death shrouding her, crushed by the inevitability and hopelessness of it all.

“I’m not giving up,” she snapped. Jyn realized how harsh she was being with him. While she felt like she was at risk of losing something great, she didn’t truly  _ know  _ Cassian — not like K-2 did. She softened her approach. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I don’t care about the odds.  _ I make my own odds  _ — always have. I am not giving up. Not on him. Not on Cassian.”

Jyn drew up enough strength to look at the hologram of Kay.

“You misunderstand me. I’m not telling you to give up. I’m telling you to be careful.” Jyn felt her mask slipping. Her lips pressed together in an effort to conceal her emotions. Her throat tightened with unshed tears. “You are not taking care of yourself. You are working too hard.”

Her laugh was wet and bitter. “How am I supposed to work any less when time is slipping away and  _ his life is on the line?”  _ She swiped at her eyes, whisking away several rogue tears. “I can’t. I can’t do any less than this.” Now that the tears started, they refused to stop. She turned her back on the hologram. She refused to let him see her like this. “Don’t ask me to do things I can’t — and will not — do.” A long pause, and then— “I can’t… I can’t lose him.”

Silence consumed them. Jyn desperately tried to regain her composure, but it was a losing battle. Now that her walls were down, they felt impossible to get back it.

Kay broke the silence.

“You love him.”

“What?” She spun around to face him, her heart thudding in her chest.

“You’re in love with Cassian.” He said it the same way he told her probabilities and statistics; like it was an inevitable fact of the universe, not some terrifying  _ and beautiful  _ feeling that took hold of her entire body and soul. “I’ve known for quite some time now.”

“I— I—”  _ What was she denying it for?  _ If she couldn’t even admit her feelings to a droid, then what was the point? Jyn felt a wave of defeat hit her. “I... Yes. I do.”

“I know.”

“I love him.” It was so different saying it out loud. It felt more real than the thoughts in her head. Speaking it into the universe suddenly  _ made  _ it feel real. Her heart clenched. “I’m in love with Cassian.”

“I know.”

Jyn let out a short bark of laughter and swiped at her nose. “How?”

“I was programmed to understand humans and human emotion,” he explained. “That’s how I knew I could trust you when we first met. That was how I was able to select worthy candidates for the mission. I observe, I analyze, I conclude. And I conclude that you love him.” 

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Jyn felt exhausted — physically, mentally, emotionally. She was scared and desperate and wished she had the ability to freeze the passing of time — just for a few moments.

“The love you feel for him is why you are so desperate,” he continued. “Love makes humans act irrationally.”

“I’m not irrational,” she argued. “I’m determined.”

“You love him and you want to save him. But. You need to take care of yourself, Jyn,” K-2 continued, as if Jyn wasn’t struggling to remember how to breathe properly. “Humans should not go for more than twenty hours without sleeping, and you have not done that. When was the last time you slept?”

Jyn couldn’t remember.

Sure, she slept for a few hours here and there. The other day, she curled up on the co-pilot’s seat and fell asleep to the sun in her face. The time before that, she rested for a few hours in the main hold. The time before that, she tried to sleep in the bunks, but couldn’t stop seeing Cassian and gave up. More recently, she woke up, her face plastered against the levers and buttons used to pilot the ship.

But the last night she slept fully? She couldn’t remember.

“You are hesitating,” he pointed out. “You can’t remember.”

“I—” Jyn slumped with defeat. “Fine. I don’t remember exactly. But I’m fine. I need to—”

“You should rest.” Jyn hadn’t heard this tone of voice from Kay before. That was saying something, considering she talked to him nearly everyday for the last seven and a half months.

“I can’t.”

“You should take a break.”

“I won’t.” Jyn grew angry at him for suggesting such a thing. Did he want her to give up? Giving up meant losing Cassian, and she refused that possibility. “Time’s running out. I can’t—”

“You will get sick. Humans are susceptible to illness when they are not healthy and, you, Jyn Erso, are  _ not  _ healthy right now. You aren’t sleeping. You are overworked. You are stressed. You’re around hundreds of people everyday. It’s a miracle you aren’t already sick!”

“But—”

“You won’t be of any use to anyone if you’re sick, including Cassian. Wouldn’t you rather take a few days off now than get sick and be unable to continue the search at all?” His eye fixtures seemed desperate and pleading. “Please, Jyn. Take a break. Come home.”

_ Home. _

For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to wonder where that was.

* * *

Fest was as cold as the last time she was home.

Jyn managed to navigate the blizzard once again. The snow made it nearly impossible to see. She wondered if there was ever a summer on this frozen-hell of a planet, or if it was always like this. Was there ever a day the wind didn’t try to rip anyone outside to shreds, or where the temperature alone didn’t make her feel like she was burning?

It was strange coming to Fest without a passenger. Bree might’ve been the first potential soulmate she brought to Cassian’s home planet, but she wasn’t the last. Now,  _ Rogue  _ was oddly silent and lacked the nervous energy the ship usually contained.

Jyn shut down the ship and zipped up Cassian’s navy jacket, her eyes locked on the faint outline of the small home through the storm. As always, she could see Kay waiting outside to greet her. The display brought a smile to her lips.

As she made her way towards him, she pulled the jacket tight around her ears and breathed against the material. She tried to ignore the guilt she felt rising up.  _ Kay was right,  _ she tried to convince herself.  _ If I get sick before the mission is complete, I would fail prematurely.  _ She had to rest.

For Cassian.

_ Cassian, Cassian, Cassian.  _ Her whole body seemed to sing with his name. Despite her disappointment in halting the mission to rest, she was excited to see him again.

And maybe it was a good thing she returned. She could barely keep her vision focused and stay upright.

“Jyn,” Kay greeted. She could’ve swore he was smiling. “Welcome home.”

* * *

When Jyn woke up, she didn’t know what day it was.

She awoke slowly. For a moment, when she was caught between sleep and consciousness, there was nothing wrong with the galaxy, there was no deadline on the horizon, a man’s life didn’t rest on her shoulders. She felt a warmth in her bones and across her chest — a warmth that she knew wasn’t just from the thick blanket pulled over her shoulders.

She felt good. Peaceful. Soothed.

She opened her eyes.

Jyn didn’t recognize the room she was in right away. She had grown so used to the grey walls and stiff bed of  _ Rogue  _ and this was most definitely not that. Still, everything felt familiar and comforting.

It took her a split second longer to recognize the scent that enveloped her. Her senses sung with him.  _ Cassian. _

Jyn bolted awake.

_ Cassian. _

She was at Cassian’s home. Kay somehow convinced her she needed to take a break — she blamed it on her sleep deprivation. He somehow convinced her to fly stars knew how far just to sleep, when she could’ve very well taken a nap on  _ Rogue. _

Her mind was foggy and her memories of the day before were hard to recall. She was so tired that she barely remembered the flight to Fest, and she most definitely did not remember crawling into bed.

Jyn recognized the room she was in. It was the spare bedroom across the hall from his. She knew it sat empty, only having been used several times when friends from the battlefield visited him. The walls were painted a creamy blue — a colour that made her instantly think of Cassian.

_ Cassian.  _ She needed to—

“Oh, good. You’re alive.”

Jyn jolted from her blissful state at K-2’s voice. Her hand flew towards her hip, where she usually kept her blaster, only to realize—

_ She wasn’t wearing her holster. _

Even more confusing was the fact the clothes under her palm were definitely not her own.

She studied them for a long minute. These were Cassian’s. She recognized them from holograms. He used to wear the short-sleeved shirt and cotton shorts to record holograms right before he fell asleep. It must’ve been a set of his nightclothes.

“I—” Jyn glanced towards Kay, who hovered in the doorway. “These are Cassian’s?”

“I offered them to you when you arrived,” he told her. He cocked his head. “Why?”

“It’s just…  _ they’re Cassian’s.” _

“You wear clothes. These are clothes. I don’t understand your shock.”

Of course he wouldn’t.

Jyn swallowed thickly and tried to think logically. There wasn’t any time to waste talking about Cassian’s clothing. She needed to focus; she needed to get back on  _ Rogue  _ and pick up her search.

“How long was I out for?”

She was almost scared to hear the answer.

“Twenty-two hours and thirty-four minutes.”

A jolt of panic went through her.

“What!?” She pushed the blankets off her legs and climbed out of bed. “No. I couldn’t have. I—”

“I can promise you; I am not incorrect.”

“I need to get going.” Jyn moved towards the corner of the room, where she discarded her clothes the night before. “I need to—”

“Jyn, you returned home because you know I am correct. You’re are not functioning properly.”

“It doesn’t matter, I need to—”

“Cassian wouldn’t like this,” he told her. “Cassian would—”

“Well, he isn’t here, is he?” Jyn bit out in frustration. “He’s not here, Kay, and it’s up to  _ me  _ to change that. I need to— I need to be out there looking, until the very end. No matter what. I can always get more sleep after I find his soulmate. He isn’t able to wait for me while I fuck off and sleep in his clothes and his bed and—”

“You know Cassian as well as I do. If he were able to communicate with us right now, I think he would tell you to get some rest and to take care of yourself first.”

“Because he’s selfless and kind and  _ giving  _ and—”

“Is your choice not selfless and kind too?” His question made her fall silent. “You are willing to risk your own well-being for Cassian, just as Cassian would be willing to risk his for you.”

Jyn struggled to speak for a long moment. She swallowed thickly. “It doesn’t matter. He—”

“He is not here. I know.” K-2 moved towards the hallway. “He would care about you, too, Jyn, if he was here. You have sacrificed so much for him; he wouldn’t be upset if you took time for yourself. He would want you well.”

“He would want to be alive.”

“He is.” He inclined his head. “You can check for yourself. Cassian is very much alive, and will remain that way until his twenty-sixth birthday.” The silence grew thick. Jyn felt like crying. K-2 looked at her with pitty. She wanted to punch him in his stupid face. “My assessment stands; you need to rest.”

“No.”

The silence grew thick. She didn’t know what to say to him. She knew he was wrong; she couldn’t risk Cassian’s life to  _ sleep.  _ She needed to be out there for him.

Kay let out a long sigh. “I must check on the ice on the antenna outside. If you’re gone before I return… Travel well.”

He left.

Jyn tugged off Cassian’s shirt and sunk to the bed.

* * *

Jyn changed back into her clothing and grabbed Cassian’s jacket, intending to leave before K-2 returned. It would be easier this way — easier without a proper goodbye.

But, as soon as she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, she faltered.

_ She needed to see Cassian. _

It felt like it was greater than a want — it was a need, deep within herself. She needed to see him one last time. The days were growing shorter; she didn’t know how many more times, if any, she’d be returning to Fest.

_ Returning to him. _

Jyn crossed the hallway, her heart in her throat, her legs weak under her. Logically, she knew this was a simple task, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of this being monumental.

She glanced through the open doorway to his room. He was where he always was; fast asleep in his bed, his hands at his sides, his face smoothed into peacefulness. While time seemed to rush around her, it seemed to freeze around him.

Her throat closed up. Her heart ached. Her eyes stung.

_ This was the first time she had the chance to look at him — truly look at him.  _

All of the times before, she was with a potential soulmate, and she forced herself to focus on them. She didn’t allow herself to study him closely. She didn’t allow herself to reach for him, despite something telling her to do so. 

It made her emotional, the fact this could very well be both her first and last time being alone with him.

Without any potential soulmates with her, Jyn couldn’t think of a reason why she couldn’t go to him like she wanted.

She crossed the room and sunk into the chair beside his bed. Her eyes never left his face. She studied the way his lips parted, and the way his jaw curved, and the way his hair curled. His appearance always brought a sense of home and comfort to her.

She could almost imagine him awake and okay, she spent so many hours watching his holograms. She knew how his eyes would crinkle when he smiled, and how he’d brush his curls off his forehead, and how his silky voice filled her with butterflies.

Jyn almost expected him to wake up and laugh — the laugh that she loved so much. She ached to hear his voice, or see his eyes, or watch his smile, or  _ see him filled with life. _

“I miss you,” she said. Jyn didn’t mean to say it out loud. The words spilled from her lips like water. And, like any river, they didn’t stop. “I miss you so much, Cassian, and it’s  _ confusing and strange  _ because I don’t even truly know what I’m missing. All I’ve ever known was distance, and holograms, and never truly having a home.”

He remained asleep, blissfully unaware.

She snorted and rubbed her face. “Fuck. I don’t— You don’t—“  _ You don’t even know who I am.  _ That realization made her skin crawl. She knew so much about him, but he didn’t know  _ anything  _ about her.

She was in love with him.

He didn’t know her.

_ It filled her with red-hot anguish. _

She wanted that corrected. She wanted that to change. She wanted to know him beyond holograms. She wanted to see him live. She wanted to see him happy. She wanted him to know who she was, even if that sounded selfish. She wanted the chance to talk to him, to laugh with him, to stand beside him.

Jyn reached forward without a second thought and took his hand with her own. A jolt ran up her arm and down her spine, making her heart race and mouth run dry. Touching Cassian was electrifying.

“I’m Jyn,” she told him, “Jyn Erso. I know you don’t know who I am, but I was your seeker.” She screwed her eyes shut. _ “Am. _ I am your seeker.” She refused to use the past tense, as if his fate was already sealed. They had time. She could still succeed.

“I really hope I can do this. I need to believe I can do this because, if I can’t, then...”  _ then you die. _ She blew out a long breath.  “I’m trying,” she promised him, her voice quivering. “I’m  _ really fucking trying.  _ I… I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life. I don’t want to fail. I want you to wake up. I want to see you, even if we’re not meant to be. I know we’re not meant to be. I’m okay with that. I just… I want you to live. You deserve that. You deserve happiness.”

Jyn studied his expression for a long moment. She tried to imagine what he would say if he was awake, but  _ he wasn’t  _ and her heart ached. 

She laughed dryly. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You can’t even hear me.” 

Yet, she didn’t pull her hand away from his. 

Jyn didn’t know how long she sat there for, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. She knew she didn’t have time to waste, but she couldn’t tear herself away from his side. She clutched his hand between her own, her heart cracking in two as her thoughts turned frantic.

_ Time was slipping away from the both of them. _

“I love you,” she breathed. Her lips tugged upwards and her sight blurred. “If I find your soulmate —  _ when  _ I find your soulmate — I know you’ll be with her. Stars, you’re  _ destined _ to be with her. And I know you already love her; you said as much in one of your logs.  _ And that’s fine.  _ This isn’t about me — it’s  _ never  _ been about me.

“I promise you, Cassian, I  _ will  _ find her. I’m your seeker and I’m not going to let you die.” She pressed her forehead against the back of her hand, her eyes sliding closed. A pleasant hum filled her. A strength and comfort passed through her like a wave. “I won’t let you die.”

She placed his hand back on the bed and stood up from the chair. “The next time I see you, I will have your soulmate and both of our lives will be different.”

That was a promise.

* * *

Jyn sat in the pilot’s seat, Cassian’s navy coat fastened across her chest. Melted snow dripped down her fringe and across her face.

Leaving felt wrong.

It felt like this was where she belonged. She didn’t belong out there, searching through billions of people for a single person. It felt like her place was here, on Fest, beside Cassian.

Her promise echoed in her mind. 

_ The next time I see you, I will have your soulmate and both of our lives will be different. I won’t let you die. _

She blew out a long breath, grounding herself. 

_ This wasn’t about her and her belonging  _ _ — i _ _ t was about  _ **_him_ ** _ and his  _ **_life_ ** _. _

She needed to save Cassian.

Jyn plugged the next planet into the navigation systems, ignoring the way her heart lurched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> 


	5. The Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long to get out! I expected to be done a lot sooner, but real life got hectic.
> 
> Also, I increased the chapter length by one. Again. Story of my life.
> 
> Enjoy!

Jyn did it. 

She found his soulmate. 

Or, rather, she  _ hoped _ it was his soulmate. 

She met Nadia on Dantooine. Dantooine was her fifth planet of the week and the first of the bunch that grabbed her undivided attention. 

She arrived on the beautiful jungle-covered planet with only four days left of her mission. She was desperate, she was frantic, she was terrified.

As always, she sat at the back of the tavern, a cool glass of water in front of her. She watched people come and go, her leg never ceasing bouncing. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept. It was a struggle to keep her eyes focused and her mind sharp. Despite being on a tropical planet where the air was saturated with humidity, she couldn’t shake the chill that seemingly clawed her insides.

Just as Jyn was about to give up hope on the tavern,  _ she _ walked in. She staggered off the street, her brown hair wind-blown and knotted, her eyes hard and dangerous, her face alive with joy.

“I kriffing  _ told  _ you I’d be back.” She pointed at the bar tender, a cocky grin lifting her lips. “You owe me a drink, Bane.”

“I thought you would’ve died!”

“Well, I didn’t.” She took a dramatic bow and winked. “I survived the war and I’m surviving now, baby, bounty hunters be damned.”

Jyn was instantly on high alert.  _ Bounty hunters.  _ This woman was being hunted? She didn’t look dangerous, although, Jyn had learned many years ago that appearances meant nothing. 

She was the first one she was drawn towards in weeks. There was something about her — something Jyn couldn’t put her finger on. It was a distant echo of the feeling she got with Bree. There was something special about this loud and confident and beautiful woman.

_ And she was her last hope.  _

Jyn watched her for a few hours, noting down every detail she could. She was wild and care-free and strong. She held her liquor well, challenged intimidating and foul-mouthed men, and wasn’t afraid to throw a punch or two.

It was during one of these fights that she got knocked to the ground. The air left Jyn’s lungs when her brown shawl fell aside, revealing a black tattoo wrapped around her left bicep.

_ Just like Bree. _

This woman — the bar fighter — was a former fighter with the Rebellion. That, paired with the strong pull in Jyn’s gut and the intensity of her personality, nearly convinced Jyn.

_ This was her.  _ The soulmate.

She wasn’t about to make a rash decision though. She had four days and that was just enough to make one trip to Fest. She had to be sure the fighter had good potential.

_ No.  _ She had to be sure the fighter had  _ great _ potential.

While the woman was laughing with a group of what seemed to be friends, Jyn slipped into the seat along the bar and caught the attention of the man running it.

“What can I get you?”

“That woman—” Jyn gestured discreetly to her “—who is she?”

The bartender narrowed his eyes and she realized she was going to have to be a lot more delicate about this. The war was still fresh in people’s minds, and most didn’t take kindly to strangers poking for information. Despite the closing deadline, she had to tread carefully.

“I want to buy her a drink for knocking that one guy out,” Jyn lied. “I want to know her name first. Who is she?”

The bartender let out a short bark of laughter and pulled back from her. “Nadia! This one wants to buy you a drink!”

Jyn swore.

“Thanks,” she snapped, “very fucking helpful.” The man laughed and moved to help the next customer.

The fighter, who she now knew was named Nadia, sat down heavily beside Jyn, looking pleased. It was the same expression she had right before she punched a man in the face three hours ago.

“You’re offering a drink, dear?” She grinned. “Either you’re trying to get me killed or trying to flirt. Which one are you?”

“Neither.” Jyn tried to keep her voice calm and even. “You knocked out that man. I wanted to buy you a drink to show my appreciation.”

“Ha! A lie if I ever heard one.” Her coy expression turned darker.

“Not a lie.” Not really, anyways. To show her good favour, Jyn stuck her hand in her direction. “I’m Jyn.” When Nadia didn’t take her hand, she lowered it. “I’m not interested in hurting you.”

“Not many people would have the guts to admit if they did, would they?” Jyn didn’t waver and held her pointed gaze. Finally, after a long moment, she nodded. “Fine. One drink.”

It was after Nadia had a drink in her hand that Jyn tried speaking again. “You’re a skilled fighter.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing about it. Just an observation.” Jyn glanced towards the splatter of blood on the floor — a remnant from the fight earlier. “You’re trained in combat.”

“A sneaky little bird, aren’t you?”

“Just observant,” she repeated.

Nadia downed her drink and gave her a hard look. “You’re not the only observant one,  _ Jyn.  _ That ship out there — it’s yours?”

“One of them is.”

“It has the markings of being in a battle. Blaster scorches. Chips. Dents. You’ve been in battle?”

“Not with the ship,” Jyn replied, “but I’m no stranger to fights.”

Nadia raised her eyebrows. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you? You don’t think I know what you’re doing, fishing for information? You don’t think I see your hand on your blaster?”

Jyn kept her expression neutral and moved her fingers off the grip of her blaster. Her heart hammered. “I don’t think you’re stupid. Overreacting, yes, but not stupid.”

Nadia slammed the cup down on the bar and stood up so abruptly that it sent the bar stool tipping backwards. Jyn was painfully aware of all the eyes on both of them. If the fight earlier was any indication, many people in the bar openly cheered and supported Nadia.

Jyn tried to keep her heart from racing.  _ Not good. This was not good. _

“And you don’t think  _ I’ve _ been watching  _ you,  _ just as you’ve been watching me?” she hissed, her voice dangerously low. “I’ve dealt with your kind before,  _ bounty hunter.” _

Jyn was screwed.

She didn’t see Nadia’s fist fly; she only felt it connect with her jaw. The force of the punch sent her head recoiling and her heart pounding. The world tipped sideways around her.

Jyn let her instincts take over and ducked out of the way of Nadia’s next punch. Her hand started out and intercept the punch before it hit her face. 

“Hey!” Jyn snapped. “You—“

Her legs were kicked out from underneath her, sending her tumbling ungracefully to the ground. As she fell, she didn’t release Nadia’s arm, bringing her down with her.

The air was knocked for her lungs. Her head hit the wooden floor roughly, making her see stars for a brief moment. Nadia planted her knees on either side of her body, trapping her below. She could taste blood from what was sure to be a split lip and every breath felt like a struggle.

Jyn had enough.

She propelled herself upwards, rolling to place herself on top of Nadia. Fists were flying. Patrons were yelling. Nadia looked terrifying in that moment; her eyes were filled with heat, her lips were pulled back into a snarl, her nails clawed at Jyn’s arms.

“Enough!” Jyn snapped, pinning Nadia’s arms to the ground. Her chest heaved. Blood rushed through her ears. “I’m not a bounty hunter!”

“You fight like one.” Nadia spat towards Jyn. “You play dirty.”

“I fight like I have something to fight for,” she bit back. “I could’ve done a lot worse, if—”

“Oh, really?” Nadia thrashed below her. “If you’re so confident, why don’t we—”

“I’m not interested in fighting you,” Jyn growled.

Her laugh was sharp. “Rich, coming from the woman pinning me to the ground.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, both of their chests heaving. After a moment of deliberation, Jyn scoffed and pulled away from her and stood on shaky legs.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jyn said. She swiped the blood from her lip and winced as she jostled the cut. “I came in search of someone.”

“A bounty hunter does not have to kill,” Nadia hissed. “They’re hunters. They search for their targets, like you.” She pulled herself to stand in front of Jyn, still coiled to spring.

“I am a soulmate seeker,” she announced. She was painfully aware of all the eyes on her in that moment, but there was nothing else she could do. Nadia looked ready to kill, and she needed to get her back to Cassian. This was the only way. “I’m searching for someone.” 

Nadia let out a short bark of laughter. Her eyes remained cold. “And, what? You think I am who you’re searching for?”

“Yes. That’s why—”

Nadia took a threatening step forward, her eyes flashing and jaw rippling. “Soulmates aren’t real.”

”They are though because—”

“Fuck off.” Nadia reached for her drink left on the bar and took a long swig. “You’re a load of shit.”

Jyn’s hands balled into fists. “I’m telling the truth. I need you to come with me, I need—”

“I’m not coming with you anywhere,” she hissed. “Now, leave. Or we won’t be so kind.”

Jyn realized how deadly silent the bar had grown. Every person inside the building was quiet and watching their every move. Some had their hands on blasters. A few stood, ready to attack.

She was out numbered. Even with all her experience and skill with a blaster, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of this one unscathed. 

She lifted her hands up, palms turned up, showing she meant no harm.

“Okay. I got it.” She lifted her eyebrows. “I’ll be on my way then.” 

Jyn left the tavern with her stomach twisted.

* * *

She didn’t sleep that night.

Instead, she sat in the pilot’s seat, watching the comings and goings of the tavern with binoculars.  _ Rogue  _ hid several yards away, through trees and under foliage.

Jyn was sure Nadia was the one. There was a feeling she couldn’t shake — one stronger than she had with Bree. It told her that she needed to get back to Cassian.

She wasn’t going to leave this planet without trying. Maybe once Nadia was away from the crowd that cheered her on, she’d be more agreeable and understanding. Maybe, if she could just talk to her and explain things, she’d agree to come with her.

There wasn’t any other choice. They were out of options. There wasn’t enough time to search another planet and hope someone turned up. 

Either Nadia would come with Jyn, or Cassian would die. 

She’d just have to take a different approach. She had three and a half days to convince her that soulmates were real.

She could do it.

She had to.

* * *

“Nadia, please listen.” Jyn jogged after her, desperate to convince her to come back to Fest. 

Nadia’s hand curled into a fist and she whipped around to glare at her. “I thought I made myself clear?” she hissed. “Don’t talk to me again. My days of fighting are over, but I will not hesitate to—”

“You just fought that guy last night. You fought  _ me  _ last night.” Jyn’s tongue darted out to swipe over her swollen lip, a remainder from Nadia’s fist. 

“I go easy inside of Sweets’ Tavern,” she said. She stood rigidly a few feet in front of Jyn, her knees slightly bent and her arm ready to swing. Jyn watched her cautiously. “You saw my tattoo yesterday — I saw you looking at it — so you know what I am. I’m a trained fighter. If you don’t leave me alone, I will make you wish you did.”

“I would never ask you to do this if I wasn’t desperate,” Jyn said. She thought of Cassian, unconscious in his bed, his hope of ever waking up again hanging by a single thread. She thought of K-2, sitting beside his best friend, forced to watch him slowly fade from the world. Jyn’s throat tightened. “I’m  _ begging  _ you to please listen.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Please,” Jyn said, her voice breaking. She knew she’d regret this later, falling apart in front of a stranger. She felt like fragments in the wind right then; so desperate to convince Nadia to come with her, so hell-bent on waking Cassian, so exhausted in every way. “Please, Nadia, I promise you — soulmates are real. I— I’ll do anything to prove it to you. I have books. I have hologram recordings. I have—”

“Are you fucking serious? I’m not interested in your fairytale—”

“It’s not a fairytale,” she snapped. Her laugh was brittle, showing just how close she was to breaking. “Does this look like a fairytale to you? I’ve been searching for his soulmate for  _ months.  _ He is currently unconscious, with only a few days to live. If I don’t find his soulmate before then, he dies. It’s not a fairytale. It’s horrible and terrifying.”

“I don’t care. I—”

“Just come meet him,” she begged. “I wouldn’t ask if you weren’t my last option. Please.”

For a moment, she dared hope. She hoped Nadia would say yes. She hoped they’d go to Fest. She hoped that Cassian would wake —  _ finally fucking wake  _ — because he deserved to live.

_ Please. Please, please, please, plea _ —

“No.” Nadia pointed harshly in her direction and backed away a few steps. “If I see you again, your friend will never find his soulmate. Got it? Don’t talk to me again.”

“Please—”

“I’m fucking serious. There’s no law out here — not since the Republic — and I’ll happily take advantage of that.” Jyn could sense the truth behind Nadia’s words. “Don’t come near me again.”

Jyn faltered as Nadia walked away.  _ The last hope. Nadia was their last hope.  _ And she was just — what — leaving? She wanted to cry at the injustice of it all. She wanted to beg and scream and  _ plead for her to see sense.  _

_ The man I love will die,  _ she wanted to scream.  _ Cassian will die. How can you be okay with this? _

But, she didn’t.

She remained silent.

* * *

Jyn wanted to cry, but she knew that wouldn’t help anybody. No, she wasn’t going to cry, she was going to work.  _ That’s  _ what was going to save Cassian — not tears — but her focus, and her dedication, and her resilience.

She was going to find his soulmate. She wasn’t going to fail — she wouldn’t let herself. She’d find a way to ensure this; she’d beg Nadia a hundred times over, she’d search a dozen planets before the next dawn, she’d petition the creators of the galaxy themselves. She didn’t care what the stars said. She didn’t care that his time was nearing its end.

She made her own destiny, and this wasn’t it.

Just as she finished plotting her course for the night, ensuring she hit as many planets as possible, the comms system let out a loud chirp. Jyn’s eyes flicked to the flashing light.

_ K-2. _

She had been avoiding him for a while. She felt guilty about it, but it was easier this way. At first, she wanted to avoid talking to him because she didn’t want to get mothered. She didn’t want him to go on about her health, or about how she should’ve stayed on Fest longer, or  _ whatever.  _ She was fine. She knew what she was doing. She didn’t see a point in arguing with him.

Then, the avoidance turned to something much bigger. Suddenly, she wasn’t just avoiding him because she didn’t want to hear a lecture; she was avoiding him because  _ she was failing.  _ As Cassian’s birthday drew closer, the less she wanted to talk to Kay. She didn’t want to hear him struggle to lie to her about how it was fine and she was doing her best. She didn’t want to have to tell him that his best friend was dying and she was failing and  _ he trusted her and she _ —

“Jyn. You answered. That was unlikely and surprising.”

She never even realized she pressed the button to accept the communication. 

“Kay,” she replied, her voice hoarse and throat tight. “You called?”

“I call every day. You are the one who has broken the status quo by actually  _ answering  _ my calls.” Jyn didn’t look in his direction and busied herself with unimportant tasks.  _ Anything to keep her emotions away.  _ She didn’t have time to deal with them. “It is nice to see you are alive.”

“Sorry about that. I’ve just been busy.” She forced a smile on her lips. “Soulmates aren’t going to find themselves after all.”

They fell into a thick silence. Jyn knew she should be the one to speak first, as she was the one avoiding him, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. The things that came to mind were all bad for conversation.

But, when Jyn turned to face the droid, her heart fractured in two. He looked restless, which was astonishing, considering he never slept. His metal body was bunched in odd places, his hands were twisted together, his eyes were dim.

_ If she was failing, she at least owed it to him to tell him the truth.  _ No matter how much it would hurt, she owed him that much.

“Listen,” Jyn began, “I don’t… Things aren’t going well.”

A beat, and then, “I see.”

She tried to ignore how he sounded so  _ tired  _ and  _ sad  _ and  _ disappointed.  _

The disappointment hurt. 

“I’ve been to more planets and moons than I can remember. I’ve — here —” She scrolled through a list she kept on the co-pilot’s consol. “I’ve recorded the names of all the ones I’ve gone to. There’s a lot here. I can send it, if you’d—”

“That isn’t necessary.”

Jyn bit her cheek. “Alright.” She turned back to the screen. “I… I’m on Dantooine right now. I got here yesterday mid-day and found someone of interest. I  _ think  _ she could be his soulmate, but I don’t know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought a lot of people were his soulmate and I was wrong, so I clearly don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Need I remind you that Cassian and I also searched for his soulmate for three years, five months and three days before his twenty-fifth birthday?” She didn’t need that reminder. It didn’t make her feel any better. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re doing the—”

_ Something inside of her snapped. _

“See!” Jyn fell back in the pilot’s seat. “This is why I don’t want to answer your calls. I don’t want to hear how I’m trying, how I’m being too hard on myself, how him dying isn’t my fault. I don’t want to hear it! Because it  _ is  _ my fault and I feel horrible and I’m stressed and—”

“Cassian wouldn’t want you to—”

“Well, Cassian is dying, so I don’t really care what he would want me to do,” she snapped. “He’s dying and it’s my fault. You don’t have to be so… so…  _ nice  _ all of the time. There’s three days until his birthday. I’m  _ trying  _ but—”

“You should return home.”

Jyn’s mouth full shut at Kay’s request.

For a long moment, she struggled to come up with the proper words. She was so close to the end of the mission —  _ so fucking close  _ — and he wanted her to come home? He wanted her to give up?

“What?”

“You should come home to Fest. You should come home to Cassian and me.” Jyn shook her head. “Jyn.”

“No.” She bit her lip to keep her composure. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not giving up.”

“Jyn—”

“I’m  _ not  _ giving up.” She sprung from the chair. She needed to move. She needed to do  _ something.  _ Run. Scream. Cry. The energy inside of her felt burning. “I won’t. I still have time. I still have three full days to find his soulmate and return to Fest.”

“Jyn—”

_ “No,”  _ she snapped. “Why would you suggest something like this? Why would you—”

“Because you only have three days left. The chances of finding Cassian’s soulmate are low—”

“No.”

“—and you should be here for the end. You shouldn’t be out there when it happens, surrounded by  _ strangers.  _ You should be here surrounded by—”

“By who?” Jyn turned to the comms, her eyes blazing. “Surrounded by you? And Cassian? Right.” She laughed. “I’m not going to sit and watch him die.”

“Jyn—”

“Shut up!” Her hands shook at her sides. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. 

She once read that anger was a secondary emotion, that people turned to anger to hide their true feelings of shame and sadness. That didn’t stop her from being angry though; angry at Kay for suggesting she give up, angry at herself for failing, angry at the galaxy for putting them in this position.

“I’m not coming home,” she hissed. “I’m not giving up. I will be searching for his soulmate until the last second, Kay. If I come home now, I’m sealing his fate, and I refuse to do that. I’m not giving up on him.”

“Jyn, please, listen—”

“No.” She rounded the pilot’s seat and slammed on the comms link, effectively ending communication. Kay’s image flickered for a long moment before disappearing, leaving her in silence.

Her stomach rolled. Her throat burned. Her body ached. It felt like she was in  _ actual physical _ pain.

Jyn let out a snarl of frustration and slammed her hand against the back of the seat.

* * *

Jyn always viewed hope like a flame. Sometimes it burned bright and hot, like the sun. 

Other times not. 

_ And, just like a flame, it had to be extinguished eventually. _

For the last month, she had been fanning the embers of her hope.  _ A little bit more. More, more, more. Don’t give up. Don’t let the light go out. Don’t— _

She could only do it for so long.

The fire of hope was extinguished when she watched Cassian’s final hologram log.

She turned it on hours after talking to Kay, needing something to distract her, needing something to remember why she was doing this, needed to seek some semblance of comfort.

She sunk into the very familiar seat and pressed the button to turn on the hologram. She only hesitated when she went to push play. Weeks ago, she associated this final hologram with goodbye. Now, the reality hit her.

_ This was goodbye. _

After she watched this, there wouldn’t be any more. She wouldn’t watch another new hologram from Cassian. She wouldn’t learn more about him, or hear more about his life, or see him laugh again.

_ This was it. _

_ This was the end. _

_ This was goodbye. _

After watching this hologram, she wouldn’t be able to pretend that he was somewhere out there, okay,  _ living. _ With no new holograms of him, that false reality became just that — false.

Jyn clenched her fist together and sucked in a quick breath, steadying herself. When she clicked the button to select the hologram, she had to bite her lip to keep her chest from caving in.

Cassian was wearing the same clothes he was in back on Fest. She recognized the blue cotton shirt easily as the one he wore the last time she saw him. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a long time. His eyes were distant. His lips were chapped. 

_ Jyn had to look away. _

Before, she would’ve felt tempted to reach through the screen and tell him everything would be okay. Now, the best she could do was tell him sorry.

“I’m just about to head to sleep for the night,” he said. The laugh that followed was dry and humourless. “Not for the night, I guess. For… a while.

“I’ve been trying to pretend this is a normal day, but it’s not, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t stand thinking that I’m going to go to sleep and just never wake up. Or. Not wake up for a while.” Cassian scrubbed his hands over his eyes. 

“I don’t know what to say; not to Kay, not to you, not to… not to anyone. Kay’s waiting for me to say something. I know he’s expecting me to say something. To give a final few words, to say goodbye, but… I can’t.” His smile was grim. “That would make it real, and I’d really like to spend my final few hours trying to ignore my impending…  _ situation.  _ I’m going to have to sacrifice a year to this slumber — it’s not going to get a second more of my time.”

Jyn rested her chin on her knee and leaned into the groove of the seat, smiling as Cassian spoke. A wave of ease washed over her, erasing the worry and the dread inside of her. She let herself get lost in the way his eyes sparkled, and the way his voice reminded her of silk, and the way he gestured exuberantly as he spoke.

He was a storyteller. Maybe that was a trait that came with having the document himself on holograms. Maybe he was always like this. Jyn didn’t know — she doubted she ever would — but she was okay with that.

She was afraid to watch this final hologram because she didn’t want to say goodbye. It was as if Cassian understood her without ever knowing her; he didn’t want to say goodbye either. They were like two opposites of the same coin, and that brought her a sense of comfort.

He talked about a project he was working on — one that Kay was to continue for the foreseeable future. He was tracking ice growth on the outskirts of his property and correlating it to movements of certain species. Jyn laughed as he spoke; he wasn’t entirely interested or invested in the project, she could see it on his face. His expression lacked that  _ passion,  _ that  _ fire  _ that he usually carried. She knew he must’ve started the project to give Kay something to do during the long year of slumber.

Except—

Maybe it would be for longer than a year.

The smile slipped from Jyn’s lips. A cold hand wrapped around her heart. Ice froze her veins.

_ If she didn’t do this, if she couldn’t do this, then Kay would continue the project alone, for a much longer time than either one of them planned. _

Jyn realized in that moment she didn’t know what would happen after Cassian turned twenty-six. What would happen to Kay? Would would happen to the life Cassian built after the war; his home, his property, his ship?

_ What would she do? _

She screwed her eyes shut. It didn’t matter. She was going to find his soulmate before then. She didn’t have to think about those things.

Jyn tried to lose herself in Cassian’s story again, but she couldn’t run from her haunting thoughts.

Always on the same wavelength, Cassian’s story died away. His words grew more hesitant, his voice grew rougher, the mask he desperately wanted to wear slipped away. He was distracted and distant and—

“I’m scared,” he breathed. His eyes were locked on hers. The intensity of the emotions housed in them stole Jyn’s breath. “I’m so fucking scared right now. I’m trying to pretend I’m not, but…”

She understood. She didn’t think anyone could look at a fate like his and not get scared. She knew she would’ve been.

“Listen — whoever you are — I…” He laughed. “I guess Kay is going to get what he wanted; a nice goodbye speech.” Jyn’s nails dug into her palm, yet she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. Her heart ached, her pulse pounded, her mind grew silent. “I don’t know when you’re watching this video, but… just… thank you.

“As you probably know by now, I’m not one for putting all my emotions out there. But. I’m thankful for whatever you do. And… I wanted you to know that — whatever happens — I’ll be okay. I am okay, I will be okay,  _ everything will be okay. _ Even if… even if I don’t wake up.” His face twisted Jyn could tell how hard this was to talk about. Her breathing was shallow. “Even if things aren’t working out, it’ll be alright.”

_ No,  _ she wanted to scream.  _ Nothing about that is alright. _

“I don’t know who you are, but I hope that you’re passionate and kind and filled with fire. I… I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I know that much about you, which holds no logic.” He pinched his nose. “This isn’t making sense.

“I’m trying to say that I think I know who you are — or, the type of person that you are. Kay would’ve made sure of it; that you cared, that you worked hard, that you were dedicated. And… I know that. I feel it. It’s hard to describe, but… I don’t know you, but I  _ know  _ you.” He was rambling and jumping all over the place. Jyn struggled to keep up.

“I want you to know that this isn’t your fault. Nothing would be your fault. If… If you don’t find my soulmate, just know it’s okay. I spent the last years searching the systems, and I couldn’t do it. I… I don’t know what I expect with a seeker. I know what I  _ hope.  _ But hopes are a dangerous thing, and they’re often far away from reality.

“I couldn’t expect you to do something I failed at, and I wish — I  _ hope  _ — you aren’t tearing yourself apart because of anything that happens. Fuck. Of course, I hope I wake up again, but… I don’t think I expect that. Not when the odds are so small. Not when the chances are so slim. It was impossible for me, and I had more guidance than you would have, which makes it even  _ more  _ impossible. I—”

Jyn reached forward and slammed her hand down on the off button. The hologram flickered before disappearing.

Her heart was pounding. The world quieted to a hush from the rushing blood in her ears. Her chest heaved. Her breathing was shallow. Her throat was tight. She felt sick. 

She was right earlier; this final hologram was too much of a goodbye.

_ She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. _

* * *

Jyn couldn’t sleep.

That wasn’t a surprise. She hadn’t been able to properly sleep in weeks.

Although, unlike the previous nights, her lack of sleep wasn’t due to work. She was  _ trying  _ tonight; Jyn was in the back bunks, a blanket pulled around her shoulders, the lights across  _ Rogue  _ off. 

She couldn’t though.

Her mind was too busy, going over  _ (and over and over and over)  _ the events from the day.

She thought of how Cassian looked so exhausted, so haunted, so  _ unsure  _ in his last hologram. He was trying to hold it together, but he was scared. She couldn’t stop imagining how horrifying his last night would’ve been. What does one do on the possible last day of their life?

Jyn couldn’t stop thinking of what he talked about. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the easy conversation — the one where he talked about missions and tasks and weather — she couldn’t stop thinking of his words.

_ The words addressed to her. _

_ The seeker. _

It broke her heart. It sounded like he struggled to remain hopeful himself. He tried to reassure her — he tried to tell her that things weren’t her fault, that she shouldn’t tear herself apart for her failures.  _ But there was something more to his words too. _

_ ‘I don’t know what I expect with a seeker,’  _ he said.  _ ‘I spent the last years searching the systems, and I couldn’t do it.’  _ She could hear what he was implying. ‘If I couldn’t find my own soulmate, a stranger won’t be able to either.’

_ ‘I don’t expect to wake up again, not when the odds are so small and the chances are so slim.’ _

Jyn’s throat felt tight.

While her fire of hope had been flickering for days, his seemed to already be extinguished.

Cassian didn’t expect to wake up. He didn’t expect her to find his soulmate.

_ It hurt.  _ Her chest ached. Her stomach twisted. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying. If he had no hope she was going to succeed, how could  _ she  _ stay hopeful?

_ She thought of Kay. _

She thought of his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid logic.  _ ‘The chances of finding Cassian’s soulmate are low. You should be here for the end.’ _

Cassian’s death. He was telling her that she should come home to Fest — to Cassian — for his final moments.

She didn’t want to think about that, but she didn’t have the luxury of ignoring it anymore. Regardless of if she wanted to think about it or not, Cassian’s birthday was  _ days  _ away. 

She had no choice.

_ No choice, no time, no hope. _

Jyn thought of Cassian’s birthday. What would she do when the clock struck midnight on that day? What would she do when it reached the time he wouldn’t wake from his slumber? 

She knew it would crush her. Him dying would  _ hurt  _ — and not just because it meant she failed her mission. It would hurt because she cared about him. It would hurt because she wanted him to live — not only because it was what she was hired to do, but because she  _ wanted  _ him to be happy, and to live a full life, and experience all the things the galaxy had to offer. 

It would hurt because she loved him.

No matter where in the galaxy she would be, his death would tear her apart. It hadn’t even happened yet, and she felt echoes of the grief and mourning in her soul. The anguish reached into her heart and tugged it apart, piece by piece.

She didn’t want to imagine what it would feel like in less than three days, when the time on Fest hit midnight. She didn’t want to imagine losing him.

_ Losing him.  _ It was a funny concept, considering he was never hers to lose.

Jyn tried to imagine what it would feel like, what it would look like. What would she be doing? Would she be on  _ Rogue,  _ watching Cassian’s holograms until the end? Would she be out there, looking for his soulmate until the last second, just as she promised?

_ Would it be worth it? _

Cassian and K-2 seemed to think it wasn’t worth it, considering they both had no hope.

Did she want to be out here —  _ alone _ — when Cassian died?

Or did she want to do what Kay told her?  _ Come home,  _ Kay said.  _ Come home to Cassian. _

Did she want to be there with Cassian, at his side, as it happened?

With no home, no time, and no fire left, she relented to the storm raging inside.

It was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I selected Nadia's name randomly while typing this chapter and intended to change it later. After I titled the chapter and set the theme of it as 'hope,' I decided to look up her name and found out her name JUST SO HAPPENS to mean hope. I knew after that, I had to keep it as is.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> 


	6. The Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be the last one, but the plot points for the first half ended up being a LOT longer than I originally planned. Which resulted in my splitting the chapter.... Again.... SOOOOOOO. This is not the last chapter. Whoops.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! I got so caught up on the details (like space travel and planet distances and ship mechanics), but decided to screw it all. I know it might not work with all the details of SW canon, but *shrug*
> 
> Enjoy

Jyn had a bad feeling about this.

Although, she had a bad feeling about  _ everything  _ for the last few weeks. With the deadline looming and her hope dwindling, she struggled to find any good feelings in it all.

Now that she was preparing for take-off, she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Something was wrong.

Jyn slid into the pilot’s seat and chewed her lip, her eyes darting across the glowing panel of controls in front of her. Was she doing the right thing by going home? Was she doing the right thing by giving up?

Logically, she knew this was wrong. She promised to find his soulmate. She was ensuring his death by giving up.

But  _ emotionally.  _ There was something tugging in her gut telling her to go home, to return to Cassian.

How the hell did that make sense? Why did it feel right to give up, but feel so wrong?

Jyn tried to push her debate to the side. She had two and a half days to return to Fest before Cassian’s birthday. She needed to stop postponing it. She already made up her mind.

With a steadying breath, she reached forward and began the take-off procedures. She couldn’t shake the feeling of something being  _ wrong  _ as she flicked switches and double checked the monitors.

With one final glance towards Sweets’ Tavern, she pulled the lever and directed  _ Rogue  _ into the air.

Earlier, she called Kay to tell him she was coming home. She couldn’t tell if he was happy or not. By all means, he should’ve been angry with her.  _ She  _ was angry with her. She was hired for one purpose; find Cassian’s soulmate before his birthday. She failed.

_ But he wasn’t angry.  _ If anything, he seemed to be unbothered by her decision. Maybe he already gave up hope a long time ago. Maybe he already accepted she was going to fail the mission. It would make sense; he tried everything to stuff his precious stats and odds down her throat often.

Jyn watched as Dantooine faded behind her. Just days ago, she was so sure the planet was the answer. She was so sure Nadia was his soulmate. She was so sure he still had a chance.

She forced her eyes forward.

It was over now. She had to accept it. It seemed as if everyone else had.

Her eyes came to rest on Cassian’s navy jacket, only an arm’s length away from her.  _ She was coming home. She was coming home to Cassian. _

_ One last time. _

With her resolve strengthened, she pushed the hyperdrive lever forward, her mind focused on Cassian and Kay and—

Alarms blared. Metal crumpled. Lights flashed.

_ No. _

Jyn flew into action. Something was wrong with the hyperdrive, if the ship’s reaction was anything to go by. The engine did  _ not  _ sound healthy — it was rumbling and groaning, like it was a wounded animal.

_ No, no, no. _

Jyn pulled the hyperdrive lever back, but the alarms didn’t stop ringing. There were so many lights on the dash, she didn’t know where to look. 

Her heart pounded. Her mind raced.

Before she could begin to diagnose the problem, the ship lurched to the side. She let out a yelp and gripped to dash in front of her. Crashes echoed from the back cabin as all of her possessions topled from their shelves.

The world spiralled around her as the  _ Rogue  _ rolled. The stars bled into thin lines as she spun. 

_ “Error. Error. Error. Error.” _

Jyn screwed her eyes shut. Her stomach rolled alongside the ship. They were spinning out of control.

_ “Error. Error. Error. Error.” _

She lunged forward, gripping the yoke tightly in her hands. She grit her teeth and tried to hold it steady, begging for the ship to respond. Her arms ached. Her teeth rattled.  _ Rogue  _ fought every one of her movements, every one of her pulls, every—

_ There.  _ A planet. It came into her field of vision  _ just  _ long enough to recognize it before it disappeared again. The ship continued to spin wildly. Alarms blared. She smelled something burning.

She didn’t have a choice — she needed to land.

Jyn grit her teeth and  _ pulled  _ on the yoke, desperate to steady the ship enough to see straight. Her hands flew across the controls, trying to stabilize  _ Rogue,  _ trying to keep everything from coming apart, trying to  _ stay alive. _

_ “Error. Error. Error. Error.” _

* * *

Jyn didn’t know where she was.

The navigations system was fried, as were many of  _ Rogue’s  _ systems. Between the snap of the hyperdrive and the rough landing on the desolate planet, most of the systems on the ship weren’t working.

With a grunt, she threw her shoulder against the door. 

It didn’t budge.

She slumped to the ground, exhausted and sick and  _ done.  _ She brushed several stray strands of hair off her sweaty forehead and bit her lip to keep from crying out of pure frustration.

Jyn didn’t know where she was and she couldn’t even get out of the ship to figure it out. The crash landing was messy and resulted in the debris being pressed against the escape hatch. No matter what she didn’t she couldn’t get it to budge.

Fuck.

She was fucked.

The metal of  _ Rogue’s _ walls were cool against her overheating body. She pressed the back of her head against the door and blew out a long breath.

She was going to figure it out.

She had to. There was no other choice. If she didn’t figure out how to escape the ship, she was going to die in here. With minimal food and water onboard, she’d most likely starve. Then again, maybe she’d suffocate first, considering she couldn’t open the door and the oxygenator was shut down.

She didn’t know much about ships — that hadn’t been her forte when she was on crews, she was there for her wit and quick thinking — but she knew one thing; power down the ship if crashed. Maker only knew how many fuel lines were snapped and how many fuses had blown. If she ran the ship without checking all systems, she’d be chancing an explosion.

Except, how the  _ fuck  _ was she going to check all the systems if she couldn’t even get outside?

Jyn sucked in several calming breaths and shrugged off her outer sweater.

She needed to relax.

Her heart was racing, despite the adrenaline wearing away long ago. Her thoughts were rushing faster than her blood through her ears, acting as an everlasting drum. Her hands shook as she clutched her sweater.

There was so much she needed to do. She needed to figure out how to get out of  _ Rogue,  _ she needed to catalogue the ship’s malfunction, she needed to make repairs, get back to Cassian.

_ Cassian. _

Her whole mind skidded to a halt at that thought.

She needed to get back to Cassian and she was  _ stuck.  _ She was stuck inside of a freaking ship, on a freaking desolate planet,  _ lightyears still away from him. _

A panic descended on her, washing all previous worries away. All she felt was a grip on her heart, so cold that it felt white-hot.

Days before, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere  _ near  _ him when he turned twenty-six. She didn’t want to be on Fest for his last moments because that meant she was giving up early — it meant that she failed.

Now, the thought of not being beside him made her blood run cold and her stomach twist.

_ She needed to get to him.  _ She had never been so sure of something in her life — she needed to be beside him as soon as she could manage it. She needed to grasp his hand in hers, she needed to tell him how sorry she was, she needed to say goodbye to the man that had become such a big part of her life.

Jyn pushed herself off of the floor and planted her shoulder against the door once again. Just as she prepared to give another push, a muffled voice came from the exterior of the ship.

“Hello?! Is anyone there?”

She faltered.

Someone was out there. A spark of hope dashed away her thoughts of panic. If someone was out there, they could help her get out of this kriffing ship.

“I’m here.” She banged her fist against the door, drawing the male to her location. Her eyes flicked to the blaster abandoned on the ground. She picked it up, just in case. “Over here!”

When the voice spoke, they were a lot closer than moments before. “Is everyone okay in there? Any injuries?”

“No, no injuries.” She was rattled and panicked, but nothing life-threatening. The same couldn’t be said to the rest of the ship. Her belongings were strewn about the ship. Bowls from the kitchen were shattered along the floor. The cockpit had been blaring with alarms and flashing lights before she powered down the ship. 

_ Those were thoughts for later. _

“I can’t get the door open,” Jyn said, pressing against the blocked hatch again. “I think something’s pressing up against it. Can you see?”

The other person was silent for a long moment. She held her breath and strained her ears for them, suddenly fearing they left her. Faintly, she heard them moving around on the other side of the door. She could hear them kicking the sky-black dirt of the planet.

“There’s a large piece of shrapnel against the door,” he responded. “It’s wedged into the ground.”

Jyn closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it looked like. She was going to have to instruct the man on the other side without having a visual.

“Okay,” she said. “Can you describe it? I don’t—”

“It’s a part from the landing gear,” he shouted. “It’s embedded into the ground and angled against the door.” She hear shuffling again and a grunt. After a beat, he spoke again. “I can’t move it.”

Fuck.

“Don’t keep pressing on the door,” he said. “You’re jamming it more.”

Jyn huffed, but did as instructed and moved away from the door. She wanted to kick the door until the metal bent to her will, but she knew it wouldn’t work. If what the man said was true, then kicking and banging wouldn’t help.

Well, it made sense. She rubbed her shoulder and grimaced at the ache. No matter how many times she pressed against the door, it didn’t budge.

“I own a hanger a few clicks from here,” he said. “I think… I think I’ll have something that will help.”

Jyn pressed her hands to her forehead. The metal of her blaster was cool against her clammy skin. She had the unshakable fear that, as soon as he left, he’d never come back. He was her only hope for getting off  _ Rogue  _ and, thus, her only hope to getting back to Cassian.

“Why are you helping me?” she croaked out. Her voice was thicker than it was moments ago.  _ From panic,  _ she knew.

“I—” He faltered. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Jyn let out a bitter laugh. “Right.” Everyone  _ always  _ had an ulterior motive. She couldn’t remember meeting someone that did something just because it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere.”

Jyn could only laugh.

It wasn’t like she had a choice in that matter.

* * *

While waiting for the man to return, she salvaged what she could. Her actions felt like a drop of water in an ocean; they didn’t matter in the big picture. Who cared that she still had three plates left, two glasses, and an unbroken jug of water when  _ she was stuck inside a ship, planets away from where she was supposed to be. _

After cataloguing what she could in the kitchen, she moved to the rest of the ship. She found that the back half was mangled; so much so that she couldn’t even access the back bunks. The living space didn’t look too bad, for the most part. Other than the back half, most things looked salvageable. She stepped around the items thrown about, her eyes locked on the hologram console in the centre of the room.

The cabinet on the adjacent wall had flung open during the rough landing, the contents having spilled across the console. She brushed her clothing had been strewn on top to the floor and examined the hologram playback machine.

It looked undamaged, although she couldn’t be sure until the ship was on and running again.

A weight that had been sitting on her shoulder lifted the slightest bit. It was ridiculous, but she felt better knowing the holograms were okay. She knew they didn’t matter — not when Cassian was days away from dying — but she clung to the recordings like a drowning man clung to a liferaft. 

There was a sharp clang from the door, jolting her. Automatically, she lifted her blaster and pointed it at the sealed door.

“I’m back,” the man from earlier called out. “I’m going to try and cut through the landing gear and dismantle it that way. Hopefully that’ll help.”

She frowned, her blaster dropping back to her side. “Isn’t that dangerous?” She could imagine the dismantled landing gear falling onto the kind stranger.

(Another death that would be on her shoulders.)

“The only other option I can see is cutting through the body of the ship, but that’s arguably  _ more  _ dangerous. I— I’m not familiar with this ship. I don’t know schematics, I don’t know where any power lines lie. I could potentially cut something important, and— No. This is the best way.”

Jyn chewed her lip. “Fine.” She brushed her hands against the hologram machine. “How does she look? The ship?” When he didn’t answer right away, her biggest fears were confirmed. “That bad?”

“I’m amazed it withstood as well as it did,” he said. “And you said there’s no injuries?”

“I’m fine.” She bit out her words harsher than she meant. She was so stressed and hearing  _ Rogue  _ was in worse shape than she hoped made her mood sour further. “Sorry. Thank you for helping.”

He banged against the door. “Step back, alright? I don’t— I don’t know what the landing gear will do when I snap it’s supports.” 

She moved towards the cockpit, but kept her eye on the door. Jyn knew she should’ve been spending her time trying to figure out the extent of the damage to the controls, but she was so anxious to get the door open — to get out of  _ Rouge  _ — to breathe fresh air that se couldn’t bring her mind to focus on anything else.

He must’ve been setting up his machinery, considering he had fallen silent. Jyn glanced out the windows of the cockpit, up towards the darkening sky.

_ Two days.  _ She had two days until Cassian’s birthday.

_ Fuck.  _

She needed to get back to him. With the sound of machinery whirling in the background, her heart grew heavy and her hopes simmered away. How in the hell was she going to be able to find her way back to him when her ship — his ship — was torn apart?

“How many people are onboard?” the man called over the loud whirl of the machine.

“Just me.” She gripped her blaster tighter, hating the way strangers made her suspicions rise. She couldn’t figure out why he was going through all this trouble to help her.

“Okay.” The machinery came to a stop. “I’m Bodhi.”

“Jyn.” She let her head drop to the wall behind her and she scrunched her eyes shut. “Please tell me that the ship will be salvageable after this?” He remained silent. She swore. “What about power? Can I switch it back on?”

“I haven’t looked around the ship yet,” he said. “I don’t know…”

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and blew out a long breath. Fine. It was fine. She could wait. She could deal with this.

By the time Bodhi managed to get the door open, the sky was dark. On this planet — whatever planet it was — the sky was clear and the stars bright. There must not have been any light pollution from nearby cities. She couldn’t recall seeing a sky this clear and bright before. 

He gripped her under the arm as she climbed down from  _ Rogue.  _ She sucked in deep breath after deep breath. The cool air of the planet felt good against her clammy skin. The ground was remarkably soft beneath her feet.

She turned to Bodhi once she got her bearings and let out a breathless laugh. “Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come along.”

“I saw your ship go down and hoped I got here in time.” He stuck his hand in her direction. It was covered in dirt and grease. She grasped it eagerly. “It’s nice to put a face to the voice. I’m Bodhi.”

“I’m Jyn,” she reintroduced herself. His hair was cropped close around his head and his facial hair was thin. She noted his grey jumpsuit and goggles perched on the top of his head. “You said you worked in a hangar?”

“A few clicks south.” He gestured in behind him. “I’d suggest piloting your ship there so we could take a better look at it, but I don’t know if it’ll be able to…”

Jyn turned back to  _ Rogue,  _ the chill rising up in her again. She pushed down her fears and worries, leaving behind numbness.

_ It is fine,  _ she tried to tell herself.  _ It’ll be fine. _

She was a horrible liar.

She stepped away from Bodhi, her attention already shifted to the half-mangled ship in front of them. Her hand dragged along the metal beside the door, noting the several gouges in it. Her eyes swept along the parts of the ship she could see and—

It was bad.

“You mentioned power earlier?” Bodhi asked, stepping up beside her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, still unsure of his motives. “Do you need help?”

“I don’t have many credits,” she told him. “I can’t pay for your services.”

He frowned. “I’m not doing this for money. I’m offering to help because you’re clearly stranded and I just so happen to own the closest hangar.” He raised his eyebrows in challenge. “Do you even know where you are right now?”

She hated that she didn’t know.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’m not interested in payment. Credits don’t get you too far out here.” 

“Nobody does anything for free.”

“I guess I’m nobody then.” She bit her tongue. He must’ve sensed her displeasure with his statement and frowned. “You really want me to ask for payment?”

“It’s concerning that you haven’t already.”

“I’m being nice.”

“Nice doesn’t get you very far in the galaxy.”

“This isn’t the galaxy. This is Lah'mu. Nice gets you plenty far here.” Bodhi crossed his arms. “Are you not going to let me help unless you give something in return?”

“Spot on.”

He glanced in the ship. “Fine. What about a trade? I help you with your ship, you give me some fruit.” Before she could say anything, he glanced at her. “Fruit is a rare commodity around here. It’s a fair trade.”

“Bullshit,” she pointed out. She didn’t have much more to offer him though and she was desperate. Her shoulders slumped. “Fine.”

He grinned at that. Together, they walked around the exterior of the ship to survey the damage. Bodhi worked in silence, which she was thankful for. She doubted she’d be able to hold a decent conversation with how loud her thoughts were in that moment.

By the time they finished, the air was crisp and her body was sore. There were so many issues with her ship that her mind hurt. Her heart ached despite her strong attempts at ignoring her emotions. The hope of ever getting back to Cassian was slowly draining away.

“We can bring your ship back to the hangar in the morning.” Bodhi wiped the palms of his hands along the back of his jumpsuit and glanced towards the horizon. “We should get a move on. The planet is known for being…  _ questionable  _ once the sun sets.”

Jyn frowned. “We?”

“Your ship is toast,” he told her. “You’re not flying away tonight. I highly doubt you’ll be able to get the power on without an external source, so that means your heating systems are shot.” He glanced towards the back of the ship again. “Besides, I think your bunk is occupied.”

She frowned. She really wasn’t angry at Bodhi — it was quite the opposite, really — but she was angry at the whole situation. She didn’t have  _ time  _ to fuck around on a black-soiled planet. She didn’t have  _ time  _ to bring her ship to his hanger, and she definitely didn’t have time to wait until tomorrow.

Her life had boiled down to a set of horrible oxymorons. She didn’t have time, but she didn’t have a choice.

_ No choice. _

She blew out a long breath. “Alright. Do you pass lodging on your way back to the hangar by chance? If you do, I’ll—”

He let out a short laugh. “I have a feeling you don’t know this planet well,” he commented. “The city is pretty far out, if one could even  _ call  _ it a city. We’re all on our own out here for the most part.” He reached down and grabbed the tools from his hangar. “I have space in the hangar, if you’re interested?” He grinned. “I’d take whatever vegetable you have onboard as payment.”

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but she didn’t feel like laughing. All she could think about was how time was slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

_ She couldn’t stop thinking of Cassian. _

She ended up agreeing to stay at the hangar and plans were set to pick up  _ Rogue  _ in the morning. Before they left on the land-speeder, she grabbed a few of her more valuable possessions from inside the ship at Bodhi’s insistence.

With Cassian’s jacket around her shoulders and her blasters on her holsters, they began the journey to Bodhi’s hangar.

* * *

“What’s damaged?” Jyn asked as soon as Bodhi finished his rounds the next morning. She stood off to the side, watching him as he worked, a desperation gnawing at her soul. She felt like  _ she  _ was the one days away from dying, not Cassian.

Bodhi laughed dryly. “It would be easier to ask what  _ isn’t  _ damaged.”

She had to admit, it looked bad, even to her. Before the sun had rose that morning, they went to get  _ Rogue  _ and brought it back to his hangar, where it sat now. The back half of the ship was crushed. The underside was torn to pieces. The sides were scraped up from debris. It didn’t look good, and that wasn’t including any of the wiring or mechanisms.

“Could you tell what happened?” she asked. “Why did it crash? It was flying normally and then… not.” Her stomach rolled unpleasantly as she thought about how the ship spun through the air, how she smelled smoke and tasted blood in her mouth during the crash.

“Yeah,” he shifted awkwardly. “It was the hyperdrive. Someone tampered with it.”

Her heart stopped.

_ “What!?” _

“It was rigged to snap when used,” he explained. He pulled out a mangled fuse from his pocket. “I’ve seen this a handful of times before. Tricky to recognize. Even trickier to install.” He watched her closely. “What the hell did you do to piss someone off?”

Jyn was running on autopilot when she reached for the fuse in Bodhi’s hands. She studied it blankly, her heart thudding in her chest.

“You mean… Someone did this?” she glanced at him. “Someone tried to  _ kill me?”  _

He looked even more uncomfortable than he did moments ago. “Yes. Maybe they weren’t trying to kill you, but maim without a doubt.”

She had no evidence, but she couldn’t shake a feeling growing in her gut.

_ Nadia. _

She remembered the woman’s feisty temper and heated threats. It made sense; she was violent, she didn’t like Jyn, she knew which ship was hers, she threatened her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the fighter in the bar did this to her ship.

“Whoever installed it was sloppy, but they knew what they were doing,” he said. “It disabled your hyperdrive, which caused an electrical surge to the rest of your systems. That matches up with your story, how all systems malfunctioned before crashing.”

She handed the fuse back to Bodhi, a chill settled across her shoulders. She felt sick.

“I don’t know who did that,” she lied. “Maybe it was someone who thought it would be funny.”

Bodhi clearly didn’t believe her, but didn’t say anything. He must’ve sensed she didn’t want to talk about it. He continued to list all the problems to her and the twist in her stomach grew. It sounded like she’d have to replace half of  _ Rogue  _ if she ever wanted to fly it again. Bodhi straight up told her it would be in her best interests to scrap the whole ship and use the profits to buy a new one.

“No,” she groaned. “I can’t. I need to fly out of here  _ today.”  _ There was one and a half days until Cassian’s birthday and she needed  _ all of that time  _ to make it back to him. “How long will it take you to fix?”

He grimaced and turned his back to her. “A few weeks, if I’m lucky. I’d have to order some parts, too, and shipments come biweekly.” He turned to her. “One month, maybe two. And that’s if I don’t find anything else that needs repair while I’m working.”

Jyn wanted to cry. Her throat burned. Her eyes stung.

_ Cassian. _

This was it. This was the end. She thought she signed his fate days ago when she decided to abandon her search for his soulmate, but she was wrong.  _ This was truly the end of it all. _

She failed in all regards. She hadn’t found his soulmate. She gave up her quest. And now she wasn’t even going to be there for the end — she wasn’t going to be able to say goodbye.

_ Fuck, it hurt. _

It felt like someone had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. The pain blossomed out from her chest, crawling its way to every crevice of her body. Once again, she questioned why it was called a broken heart when it felt like her whole body was broken.

_ No, it was worse than that. _

It wasn’t just her body — it was her soul, too. She felt the fracture spiderweb into every part of her, eating away at her, piece by piece.

She loved him. She was  _ in love  _ with him. It was a horrible fate, knowing that he was never hers to love, and it was only made worse knowing he was going to die in a few days.

_ And she couldn’t do anything to stop it. _

No matter how strong she was, no matter how much she fought, no matter  _ what  _ — she was going to lose him. She’d never see his eyes in front of her, or hear his silky voice in person, or watch him smile, or—

She’d never get to say goodbye.

“Jyn?” Bodhi watched her for a long moment, clearly unsure. She couldn’t imagine what she looked like in the moment. Did it look like she was falling apart? Did she look as horrible as she felt? “I’ll leave you. I’ll—”

“No,” she croaked. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but she knew she didn’t want to be alone in that moment. Being alone meant thinking and thinking meant more pain. She couldn’t handle that — not right now. Jyn frantically blinked her tears away. “I just… I had somewhere I needed to be.”

He nodded his head thoughtfully. “I see.” He inclined his head towards the wreckage of  _ Rogue.  _ “I don’t think it’ll be dangerous to try and power her up, if you wanted to still?”

She managed a nod.

* * *

Bodhi made a few quick repairs before he deemed it safe to power  _ Rogue  _ up. It was a painful start. The engine sputtered and groaned. The whole ship seemed to protest coming to life once more.

She sat in the pilot’s seat, her eyes locked on the call button to the left. Bodhi said something about going to see if he could start repairing  _ something  _ and she gave him a nod.

_ Alone. _

_ Again. _

Jyn chewed her lip and pulled her gaze away from the cursed call button. She found her gaze pulled towards the navy jacket draped across the co-pilot’s seat. Her throat tightened.

In seconds, all the walls she put up came crashing down.

The tears were hot across her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was caving in. Sobs ripped out of her throat — broken and heavy. It felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out.

With a shaking hand, she grasped Cassian’s jacket and pulled it onto her lap. It was cold to the touch. Her whole body ached as her fingers brushed along the very familiar stitching and rips. She had mapped out the whole jacket over the last several months; all she needed was to run her fingers along it to remember each story that went along with each tear.

_ She remembered how he slaved over stitching up a rip in the right bicep. She felt the blaster mark on the left ribs. There was the rebellion patching along the shoulder, the wear in the sleeve where he wore a band with his blaster, thinning fabric along the spot where his backpack rubbed. _

Jyn clutched the fabric to her chest and  _ sobbed.  _ Her whole body shook with the force of it. She throat hurt. Her head pounded. She buried her nose into the collar and sucked in breath after breath, wishing with everything in her that things were different.

She wished that she was with him. She wished she found his soulmate. She wished she could save him from his approaching death; she wished her love was enough. 

_ I’m sorry,  _ she wanted to say.  _ I’m sorry. You deserve better. _

Always with impeccable timing, the dash began beeping with an incoming hologram transmission. She pulled her face from the fabric of the jacket, glaring at the blinking call button with all the strength in her.

She didn’t want to answer it.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She didn’t want to acknowledge that any of this was real, that she was trapped on a planet, that she couldn’t find his soulmate, that she couldn’t even come home to him one last time.

Jyn pressed the button to accept the call.

(She always loved torturing herself.)

The blue-tinted image of Kay blinked into existence in front of her. She sniffed loudly and straightened, hoping her face wasn’t as swollen as it felt.

Kay bristled. “Jyn!” He leaned towards her. “Thank the maker. I have been trying to get ahold of you for  _ ages.  _ I was beginning to think the worst. You  _ worried  _ me.” If she didn’t feel like she was falling to pieces, she would’ve been touched at how  _ truly  _ worried he sounded. “You should’ve been here by now. Where are you? What have you—” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Are you  _ crying?” _

She swiped at her cheeks. Her chin wobbled. “That’s what people do when they’re upset,” she snapped.

“And you’re upset?”

“I—” She sucked in a quick breath. She wasn’t upset with Kay. She shouldn’t take this — her mistakes, her failures — out on him. “I am.”

“Oh.”

She met his gaze. Her words stuck in her throat several times before —  _ finally  _ — they came. “I… I won’t be able to make it back on time.”

Just saying it out loud made her break further. Silent, angry tears streamed down her cheeks.

“What?” Kay stumbled over his words. “You— You— You  _ what?” _

She tried to stay strong, tried to put on a brave face. It was a farce — she knew it, he knew it — but it made her feel strong. It made her feel like things would be okay, when she knew that was far from the truth.

“I’m on Lah'mu,” she said. “ _ Rogue  _ had a malfunction. I crash landed. That’s— That’s why you couldn’t get ahold of me sooner.” 

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” She ignored the fact that she did not feel fine. It felt like the life was being sucked from her. She forced a wobbly smile up. “I met a pilot here, he’s willing to fix up the ship for a reasonable rate. But… It won’t be fixed for a few months. I—”

“Do you need credits?” he pressed. “I can transfer some to you if you need.”

“No.” She didn’t know how to put anything to him. So much had changed. So much happened that she hadn’t been able to process herself; how could she bring herself to explain it to someone else? “The payment isn’t the problem.”

“If it isn’t credits, what is it?”

“The ship is wrecked,” she explained. “There’s hardly anything salvageable. Half of the ship is gone, the hyperdrive is shot, most of the systems are done. The credits aren’t the problem. It will take time to repair.”

_ Time Cassian doesn’t have. _

“Which is why I won’t be able to make it back,” she explained. The tears stuck in her throat. “There’s…”  _ Fuck.  _ “There’s a day and a half until Cassian’s birthday. This will take  _ months  _ to fix. I won’t—” She bit her lip. “I won’t be able to make it back before his birthday.”

Kay was silent for a long moment. The silence was worse than anything he could’ve said in that moment. It was choking, suffocating, horrible.

“It’s fine,” she said after it was clear he wasn’t going to speak. “I… I’ll be fine here.”

“Jyn…”

“No, I’m serious.”  _ She was lying.  _ “I know you said I should come home so I’d be with the both of you while it happened, but I see that’s not going to happen.” It was hard to speak. “It’ll be okay. All I’m missing is being with you while it happens. It isn’t a big deal.”

“Jyn…”

“Just… Just  _ listen.  _ Tell Cassian I’m sorry. Please?” She blinked tightly. “But me coming home isn’t going to change anything. I don’t have his soulmate.  _ I failed.  _ He’s going to die either way.”

_ She felt sick. _

“He doesn’t even know me,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Me being there while he dies isn’t going to change anything. He won’t even  _ know  _ I’m there; he’s fucking asleep, just like he has been for the last year.”

“But—”

“Coming home while it happens is a comfort for  _ me,  _ not him. You said so yourself; you didn’t want me surrounded by strangers while it happened, you thought it would be easier on me if I was there when it happened. So… I won’t be home. That’s on me.”

“Jyn—”

“It’s on me, and—”

_ “Jyn!”  _ Her mouth fell shut at his fierce tone. “Stop talking. Listen.” She fell back into the pilot’s seat and waited for him to continue. “You need to come home.”

She clenched her jaw. “I just told you;  _ I can’t.  _ I’m stuck on Lah’mu for the next two months, and—”

“You  _ have  _ to come back.” She studied him intently, a chill hitting her like the winds on Fest. Something wasn’t right here. There was something with his tone, with the way he looked at her, with the way… “You have to come back.”

“I—” She didn’t know what to say. “I don’t understand.”

Kay looked at her for a long moment. His eye fixtures seemingly peered into her soul. After a long moment, he spoke.

(She wished he hadn’t.)

“Have you considered the possibility of  _ you  _ being his soulmate.”

The world stopped turning.

She froze at his words. Her thoughts ground to a halt. Her breath froze in her lungs.

_ No. _

Panic gripped her like nothing else before. Fear instantly blossomed across her chest, quickly erasing the ache housed there only minutes before. Her tears froze as she was thrown into inner turmoil.

_ No. _

_ It wasn’t possible. _

She was his seeker, not his soulmate. She… she was supposed to  _ find  _ his soulmate. She was supposed to… She wasn’t…

No.

She shook her head. Her body felt empty with numbness. Her heartbeat echoed.

“No,” she said, her voice hoarse. Slowly, the world was starting to refocus itself around her. “No. It… It’s not possible.”

Hurt was replaced by fear, and fear was replaced with anger. She could feel it, red and hot, swelling in her chest, choking out every other emotion she felt.

_ No.  _ She refused. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

_ Because, if it was true, that meant she failed more than she thought. _

The anger bubbled out of her easily. “What are you talking about?” she hissed, her voice dangerously low. “Why— Why would you even suggest that!?”

“I’ve been suspecting for a while,” he admitted. “You were always drawn to him. You fell in love with him through holograms.”

“But—”

“You match the traits that Cassian always resonated with; you’re strong, and full of hope, and fight for what you believe in. Have you—”

“No.”

“—ever considered  _ why  _ you fell in love with him so easily, or why you are pulled towards him? I would bet anything that you have all the returning signs of a soulmate match too.”

“Stop, Kay, just—”

“Do you feel like you should be by his side? Do you feel safe with him? Do you feel sparks when you touch? Do you—”

_ “Enough!”  _ She slammed her hand against the dash, dangerously close to the button to end the call. Her chest heaved with emotion. Anger made her vision go red. “Fuck off,” she hissed. “You… It isn’t me. You told me that I’m the perfect seeker — that our personalities don’t align — that there’s only two percent…”

“Two percent does not mean zero,” Kay said. “There was always a  _ possibility  _ — albeit a small one — that you were his soulmate. I just—”

“No.” Jyn stood from the pilot’s seat and paced. “It— It can’t be me.”

“Jyn—”

“No!” She rounded on him, her heart pounding, her blood boiling. She was angry —  _ so angry.  _ Angry with Kay for suggesting it, angry at herself for  _ hoping  _ what he said was true, angry that  _ she was stuck on this fucking planet. _

That was the worst of it all; she was stranded on Lah’mu for the next two months.  _ She wouldn’t be able to get to Fest before the next day.  _ Even though she hoped — even though she  _ wanted to be his soulmate with every fibre of her being  _ — she’d never be able to get to him in time.

She loved him and now Kay was telling her there was a chance?  _ When she had given up hope? When she had no way of getting to him? _

It was unfair, unjust, infuriating. It made her want to scream and cry out of pure rage.

Because, no matter how much she wanted this, it was  _ still  _ out of her control. Despite how much things have changed with Kay’s revelation,  _ it was still the same. _

Cassian’s future was slipping through her fingers, just like time, just like hope.

It seemed as though the Fates decided this wasn’t in either of their futures.

“Jyn, I’m sorry, but I thought it only be fair that—”

She rounded on the communications system, her blaster raised. With white-hot rage coursing through her, she pulled the trigger, smashing the dash to pieces.

The transmission cut off.

She collapsed to the pilot’s seat with a sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> 


	7. The Soulmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh the final chapter!!!! I’m not ready to say goodbye!!!!!!!
> 
> This is a longer one, but I hope you enjoy regardless.

Bodhi rushed into the cockpit, his eyes wide and a blaster in his hands. Jyn locked eyes with him, his face blurry through the tears. 

“Sorry,” he gasped, sounding like he must’ve ran all the way here. “I thought I heard a blaster.”

“You did.” She wiped her eyes. She was so sick of crying. She was so sick of feeling so hopeless. “It was me.”

Bodhi studied her. “Are you okay?”

She wiped at her tears and stood. “I’m fine.”

_ She was a liar. _

He knew it.

His gaze didn’t pull from hers for a long minute. He sighed and sunk into the co-pilot’s chair. “I know we don’t know each other, but maybe that’s what you need; someone that doesn’t know who you are to vent to.” He lifted his eyebrows, prompting her. “You’re upset. Someone call you?”

Jyn was tempted to tell him. Her chest felt like it was caving in from everything, her thoughts swirled chaotically,  _ she was so exhausted. _

But he was right; they didn’t really know each other. He was someone who saved her life, sure, but that didn’t mean they  _ knew  _ each other. They barely spoke three words to each the previous night due to exhaustion, and now—

Now, he was offering to listen to the demons in her mind, to help take the weight from her shoulders?

“Bodhi—”

“I know, I know.” His critical gaze ghosted around the ship for a brief moment and a small smile tugged at his lips. “I’m assuming it has something to do with whatever you’re trying to get back to?” he guessed. “Yesterday, you said you had somewhere you needed to be. Is it important?”

Jyn couldn’t take it anymore.

_ She told him everything. _

He was right; maybe she needed to let it all out. Maybe she needed to talk to someone that didn’t know who she was. Maybe she needed someone that was an outsider to the whole situation to just  _ listen.  _

“I’m a soulmate seeker,” she told him, watching his reaction carefully. His expression remained blank and she took this as a good sign. “My employer—” She nearly choked on these words.  _ Cassian was so much more than just her employer.  _ “—his situation is becoming critical. I... Do you know much about soulmates?”

“Not much.”

She explained the basics, how one would fall into a deep slumber on their twenty-fifth birthday, how they’d have one planetary rotation to find their soulmate or else they wouldn’t wake up.

“And… his birthday is close then? That’s why it’s critical? You need to keep searching?”

Her throat closed in. She looked away. “It’s tomorrow.”

Tomorrow at midnight, her mission would end alongside Cassian’s life.

_ It made her want to get sick. _

Bodhi remained silent. She didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell what he was thinking. She wished she understood everyone like she understood Cassian.

“I… I don’t have time to find his soulmate.” Her thoughts were pulled back to what Kay said only moments ago. He was convinced that  _ she  _ was his soulmate and—

No.

It wasn’t true.

She knew it wasn’t true.

Kay was wrong. He had been wrong in the past, he was wrong now.

_ Because if he was right, that meant she was solely responsible for Cassian’s death. _

She had been around him  _ so many times  _ — if she had only  _ kissed him,  _ he would’ve lived.

Her being his soulmate made it worse —  _ it made it so much worse. _

So she couldn’t believe it.  _ She refused to believe it.  _ She couldn’t be his soulmate. She couldn’t, she—

“I shot the transmitter because someone told me that  _ I  _ am his soulmate.” Fuck, it was even worse to say out loud. The room grew heavier with her words, as if they weighed more than  _ Rogue  _ itself. “They said that there’s a possibility, that— I don’t know.”

Bodhi pressed his lips together. “And you love him? This man?”

“I do.”

“Then this is good, no? You’re his soulmate. That is—”

“No,” she said, her shoulders sagging again. “His birthday is tomorrow.  _ He dies tomorrow.  _ And I’m stuck here. I… I had so many opportunities to kiss him — to save him — and I didn’t. I don’t think I could live with it if I was his soulmate and let him die.” She glanced at his navy jacket, her heart giving a painful tug. “It makes it so much worse knowing that I could be his soulmate, knowing that I could’ve saved him. His fate doesn’t change, but… It’s worse. It hurts more than it did before.”

_ Because she knew it was her fault. _

_ Because she knew she was to blame for his death. _

_ Because she didn’t just fail as seeker, but as a soulmate too. _

Bodhi’s expression was guarded. He nodded in agreement. “I mean… you don’t know  _ for sure  _ that you’re his soulmate, right? You don’t know for sure that you could’ve saved him.”

She knew he was trying to comfort her.

_ It wasn’t working. _

If anything, it made her heart grow heavier. She didn’t  _ know.  _ She’d never know.  _ The uncertainty of it all made her heart ache. _

“You know what?” She pushed herself from her seat. “He was wrong. I’m not his soulmate. I would’ve known if I was.”

_ Except, didn’t she? _

Wasn’t Kay right? Didn’t she feel drawn to him? Didn’t she have to fight the urge to kiss him when they were together? Didn’t she grow to understand him — better than anyone else? Didn’t it feel like there was an invisible force pushing them together, bridging across time and space?

“I’m not his soulmate. I can’t be.  _ I can’t…” _

Bodhi said nothing.

* * *

Jyn wished she kissed him.

As she lay on the cot provided by Bodhi, she couldn’t stop thinking about it  _ and it was killing her.  _ The thought — the regrets — the grief — it was eating away at her from the inside.

She pulled the knitted blanket tighter around her shoulders and turned, her heart aching in her chest.

She wasn’t sure if she was Cassian’s soulmate, and she would never know. It was torture in of itself. Not only was she going to have to deal with losing Cassian, but she was going to have to deal with the  _ guilt  _ and the  _ regret  _ that came with the unanswered questions.

_ Were we meant to be? _

It added to the pain of losing Cassian — and  _ that  _ pain was already all-consuming. Knowing that the world was going to lose such a bright light, such a bright mind, such a bright  _ soul. _

It was crushing.

Cassian deserved to live. He deserved to grow old with his soulmate. He deserved to accomplish whatever he wanted. He deserved to live a life that wasn’t dictated by an external force, whether that be war or a search for soulmates or looming death.

_ He deserved so much more. _

She wished she would’ve kissed him.

For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to think about what it would’ve been like. How his hands would grasp at her waist, how his touch would send warmth curling through her body, how it would’ve stole the breath from her lungs, how her knees would go weak. She imagined that he would’ve kissed her with a softness that made her stomach flip, that he would’ve smiled when they broke apart, that their foreheads would press together for a moment of shared tranquility.

_ Fuck. _

She pushed those thoughts away, hating how they were like salt to the wound.

_ She wished she would’ve kissed him when she had a chance.  _ She should’ve listened to her instincts telling her to go home and stay with Cassian. She wished she would’ve listened to what her heart was telling her and not just blamed the pull to him on the way she felt.

Jyn stood from the bed and began to pace. The air was cool around her clammy body, bringing her some relief. The hangar was empty — just her and  _ Rogue.  _ She might’ve enjoyed the isolation if her thoughts weren’t so loud, if they didn’t make her feel like she was slowly spiralling out of control.

She needed a distraction. She needed to run from this. She couldn’t deal with this — not right now.

Jyn was almost tempted to make her way to the kitchen Bodhi pointed out the previous night, but that meant she’d have to come into his house, and she didn’t want to intrude more than she already was by staying in the hangar.

For a brief moment, she thought of calling Kay, but it was fleeting. She blasted the communications system earlier; there was no way in hell it would work. Considering Kay was on a secure channel, she doubted any tech that Bodhi had lying around would work.

Her eyes snapped to  _ Rogue.  _ Maybe…

_ She was already moving. _

It was on unsteady legs that she climbed through  _ Rogue’s _ damaged door. The flooring was cool against her bare feet. The air smelled earthy and smoky, both of which were from the crash landing.

Her eyes came to rest on the hologram playback machine, her heart thudding against her chest. It looked like she left it; covered in clothing and miscellaneous items from the rough landing. She ran her hand along the side, searching for anything worrying. Just like before, she found nothing.

Jyn sunk into her seat and powered it on.

_ It felt like an echo of a past life. _

As soon as her gaze settled on Cassian, her throat constricted and her world came to a shuddering stop.  _ Why was she doing this? Why was she torturing herself? _

She knew why. She wanted — no,  _ needed  _ — to see Cassian in that moment. For  _ months,  _ he was the one to bring her comfort. When she watched him, she felt like she was less alone. Hearing his voice — seeing his face — it was all so peaceful, so comforting, so  _ safe. _

And she needed that right now.

She needed Cassian.

“I’m scared,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m so fucking scared right now. I’m trying to pretend I’m not, but… Listen — whoever you are — I… I guess Kay is going to get what he wanted; a nice goodbye speech.” 

_ Why did she pick this video? _

Her hand hovered over the button to exit, her heart tattooing a pattern against her ribs.

This was his final message — it was the final hologram log from Cassian. She recognized his words, his exhaustion, his clothes.

_ She still wasn’t ready to say goodbye. _

“I don’t know who you are, but I hope that you’re passionate and kind and filled with fire. I… I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I know that much about you, which holds no logic. This isn’t making sense.

“I’m trying to say that I think I know who you are — or, the type of person that you are. Kay would’ve made sure of it; that you cared, that you worked hard, that you were dedicated. And… I know that. I feel it. It’s hard to describe, but… I don’t know you, but I  _ know  _ you.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind clung to his words.

_ I don’t know you, but I know you. _

_ I feel that. _

How had she not caught his words before? 

She thought back to one of the guides she read all those months ago when she first met Kay, specifically the one written by the woman who found her own soulmate. Her specific words were ‘it’s a feeling. When I found her, I knew.’

_ They were an eerie echo of Cassian’s. _

Maybe she was reaching — maybe she was trying to connect dots that were never meant to be connected — maybe she was so desperate that she was imagining it all.

_ But what if…? _

No.

She focused on the words Cassian said. She focused on the way his expression shifted, how his eyes burned bright despite his clear exhaustion, how he seemed so alive and so real.

“I couldn’t expect you to do something I failed at, and I wish — I  _ hope  _ — you aren’t tearing yourself apart because of anything that happens. Fuck. Of course, I hope I wake up again, but… I don’t think I expect that. Not when the odds are so small. Not when the chances are so slim. It was impossible for me, and I had more guidance than you would have, which makes it even  _ more  _ impossible.”

This was where she stopped listening to the message last time. She turned it off, too scared of the grief and the heartache his words brought up.

Now, she craved more.

“I just— I wanted to say that.” His head drooped between his shoulders and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to die with that on my conscience. Well,” he laughed, “if I even  _ have _ a consciousness when I’m sleeping.” Jyn watched the way his fingers brushed against the loose thread on his chest, how his eyes flicked from item to item in his room, how his chest rose and fell rapidly. He was scared. So was she. “That’s something I think I’ll miss.  _ The dreams. _

“Kay said I don’t know for sure I won’t have them. I don’t know what option I like better; dreaming for a year straight or skipping over a whole year. I keep thinking that I’ll be awake one minute, fall asleep, and wake up again with a soulmate over me.  _ My  _ soulmate.”

Cassian rubbed his face and blew out a long breath. She sat in silence, watching him struggle with his thoughts. The silence stretched tightly between them.

Finally, he locked eyes with her again, stealing her breath from the pure intensity.

“I dreamed of her,” he said, his voice low and unsure. Jyn grew still at his words. “I dreamed of my soulmate.”

_ Oh. _

She inched forward in her seat, her heart hammering, her thoughts silent, too hopeful for her own good.

“I’ve  _ been  _ dreaming of her. The closer I get to my birthday, the more… the more times I see her.” He said his words slowly, like he was measuring each one. “At first, it was just shapes.  _ Feelings.  _ I couldn’t be sure of what I was seeing; I thought it was a dream.  _ But every night,  _ it’s something more. And I know — I don’t know how — but I  _ know  _ it’s her.” He licked his lips. His eyebrows pushed together. “It makes me wonder if… if I’ll be dreaming of her while I’m waiting.”

It felt like eons before he spoke again.

“She reminds me of Endor,” he said. His expression melted to one of fondness and warmth. “Her hair… brown, like the trees.  _ So  _ beautiful.  _ And her eyes.  _ They remind me of the forest. They’re green like the trees. They’re so full of life, so full of  _ warmth, of fire.”  _ His smile crinkled his eyes.

Jyn’s breathing was shallow.

_ No.  _ It couldn’t be her. It couldn’t…

_ But she had brown hair. She had green eyes. _

A coincidence. It must be a coincidence.

“She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice growing breathless. “I want to meet her. I hope I meet her. One day.” Cassian’s smile would’ve made her heart skip a beat if she wasn’t so stunned in that moment. “She’s brave. And bright. When I think of her, I feel  _ warm  _ and safe and… and like I’m  _ home.” _

Home.

_ That was what he felt like to her. _

Her hands shook. It felt like she was teetering on the edge of a knife, like she was—

“She’s good and kind and  _ reckless,”  _ he said, his voice soft with affection. “Her heart is in the right place though.  _ I can feel it.  _ She’s… gold.” He smiled. “Her heart is made of kyber.” A chill ran up her spin. Her eyes widened. The air left her lungs. 

_ Cassian. _

“Stardust,” Cassian said, his expression wavering. “She has stardust in her eyes and kyber in her heart.  _ That’s  _ my soulmate.”

Jyn stumbled backwards, as if she had just been blasted in the chest. Her heart raced. Her vision tilted. Her knees buckled under her.

_ Stardust. _

_ She was Stardust. _

It was a name her father called her before the war tore them apart.

She watched from the floor of  _ Rogue  _ as Cassian leaned towards the recording device, his expression sad. “Okay. I— I guess that’s it.” He swallowed thickly. “Goodbye.”

The screen flickered off.

Suddenly, she was thrown into a pool of darkness, the screen no longer illuminating the ship. The sounds of her panted breaths echoed off the walls of  _ Rogue.  _ Her blood rushed through her ears, washing away everything else.

_ Stardust. _

_ Stardust. _

_ Stardust. _

_ Cassian. _

Jyn let out a shuddering breath as she let the truth sink in.

_ She was Cassian’s soulmate. _

* * *

“Bodhi!”

Jyn stumbled out of the hangar, her feet moving so fast beneath her that she could barely feel the ground. She crashed into the door frame and let out a string of curses.

She pushed herself up and continued her rush into Bodhi’s home.

“Bodhi!” she called again, her voice shaking. “Bo—”

“Jyn?” he met her in the hallway, his eyes barely open and grimacing. “Wh— What time is it? Are you okay? What’s—?”

“I have to go.” She was running on pure instinct in that moment, not having taken a second after Cassian’s message ended to think. As soon as she said it, she knew it was what she had to do. “Yeah… Yeah, I have to go.”

His eyes widened. “What? What are you—”

She quickly threw together a plan, her mind racing. “I— I’m leaving. I need to go. He was right. I was— I am— I—”

Bodhi reached out for her, steadying her like he would steady a wild animal. He searched her eyes for a long beat, clearly concerned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “What’s going on? Why are you leaving?”

Jyn’s hands shook. She curled them into fists at her side. “He was right — the one I shot. The call. Not him. I shot the call.” She shook her head. “I’m Cassian’s soulmate. I need to— I—”

“But you weren’t sure,” he said. “You said—”

“I know what I said,” she snapped. She forced her voice to soften. “I was wrong. I know now. I— there’s no doubt in my mind. I need to go, I need to get to him.” Jyn moved past him, moving her way towards the open window dead ahead. She glanced at the moon’s positioning and ran a few estimates. “It’ll work. It’ll be tight. But I could—”

“Jyn, slow down.” Bodhi chased after her. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to get to Fest,” she said, spinning on him. Her eyes were wild. Her whole body shook. “I’ll have enough time to make it, if I leave now. Kriff.” It was going to be tight. She should’ve left hours ago. “I have to go.”

With that, she brushed past Bodhi again, headed for the hangar. She’d grab her shoes and Cassian’s jacket and—

“You can’t fly that ship,” Bodhi told her, his tone leaving no room for questioning. “It’s  _ wrecked,  _ Jyn, you won’t get it off the ground.”

She shook her head. There was no time to explain. She had to go.

“Jyn, I’m serious, you’re going to—”

“I’m going to the city,” she told him hastily. She spun to face him again and hoped her expression would convince him that she  _ needed  _ this. There was nothing he could say that would sway her. “I’ll— I’ll go to the city, grab a transport. I— I don’t have many credits, but I’d be willing to pay any amount to hitch a ride, and—”

“Jyn—”

“I woke you to ask if I could borrow your speeder, or if you could take me because I don’t know the fucking way and—”

“Jyn—”

“—I don’t know how I’ll—”

“I’ll take you.” 

She fell silent and tripped over her own two feet. Bodhi’s hand shot out to steady her.

“What?”

“I told you that I would take you to Fest.” He dropped his hand from her elbow. “There’s not going to be a ship to take you — no matter how many credits you have. And the city is far away —  _ too far.  _ You won’t make it.”

She was already shaking her head, ready to tell him no, ready to tell him that he couldn’t.

“Yes,” he insisted. It was his turn to brush past her, rushing towards the hangar. She chased after him. “I used to be a cargo pilot. I can—  _ I will  _ — get you there on time.”

“You don’t even know me,” she accused. “First, you rescue me from my ship. Then, you give me a place to stay and are willing to repair my ship. And now? Now, you’re willing to fly  _ systems  _ away just so I can—”

“—so you can save someone.” He turned to her, his eyes intense. “I’ve done bad things in my life, Jyn, horrible things, things that I regret. I used to be a pilot for the Empire, long before it fell and before I managed to get myself out. When I got out, I promised myself that I’d take opportunities when they came; that nobody would die because of my actions — or inactions — again.” He pressed his lips together and pointed towards a smaller ship in the furthest corner of the hangar. “This… This is how I do that.  _ I help.  _ Okay, Jyn? I want to help.”

_ How could she argue with that? _

A beat, and then—

“Okay.” Bodhi’s face split into a grin to match Jyn’s.

“Okay?”

“Alright, let’s go.” They both raced forward, Bodhi moving to his ship and Jyn moving to the wreckage of  _ Rogue. _

The time between their agreement and taking off was a blur to Jyn. When she was seated in the co-pilot’s chair with Cassian’s jacket around her shoulders, the moon was still high in the sky and the fire of hope burned brightly in her chest.

* * *

His ship was called  _ Prime.  _ It was smaller than  _ Rogue,  _ but sturdier and faster. Bodhi moved around the controls with a skill she didn’t possess, piloting them towards Fest quickly.

Her heart hammered in her chest as they flew. The galaxy blurred blue around them as they jumped through hyperspace. Jyn was rattled, and hopeful, and—

She remembered Cassian saying that hope was a dangerous thing.

In that moment, she agreed full heartedly.

She was  _ terrified,  _ absolutely terrified. She was so scared that they wouldn’t get there in time. She was scared that it wouldn’t work — that she’d press her lips to his, and it wouldn’t break the curse.

She tried not to think about it too much.

Jyn knew that it was going to be tight, even with Bodhi’s piloting and  _ Prime’s  _ fast speeds. It would’ve taken her a full day to get from Lah’mu to Fest.  _ They didn’t have that time.  _ If her calculations were right, there was only ninety percent of a planetary rotation left.

_ Cassian had less than a full day until his birthday. _

It made her sick. She was spiralling out of control, just how  _ Rogue  _ spun before it wrecked. She was suffocating, like bags of sand were resting across her chest.

Bodhi watched her as he flew. She could feel his eyes on the side of her face, which only made her nerves and worries grow tenfold.

“We’ll make it,” he told her again.

She hoped, and hoped, and  _ hoped. _

* * *

Landing would’ve been easier with exact coordinates.

“There!” Jyn called, pointing at a distant mountain. The ship rocked from the force of the winds. Of course, they had to arrive in the middle of typical Fest weather — a blizzard was raging wildly. 

“I don’t see it!” Bodhi’s eyes were narrowed as he tried to peer through the snow. It was falling so heavily that it looked like a sheet of white. “Jyn…”

She settled into her seat and blew out a long breath. “Give me control,” she requested, reaching for the yoke.

Bodhi did as requested. The ship lurched to the side as controls were passed to her. Jyn clenched her jaw and yanked on the controls, pulling the ship back. Bodhi clutched the dash and he cried out in alarm.

“I got it,” she assured him. “I got it, just—” The ship lurched again. The controls were different to  _ Rogue’s  _ and she was  _ definitely  _ not a classically trained pilot. She swore, but steadied the ship quickly. “There!”

She knew the planet better than Bodhi did and was able to pick out the faintest hints of landmarks on the ground. The route to Cassian’s house was familiar. It would’ve been soothing if she wasn’t so terrified, if her hands weren’t shaking, if dread wasn’t clawing out of her chest.

When she spotted Cassian’s home in the distance, her grip on the yoke tightened and she straightened. “There! You see?”

“I see it.” Bodhi reached for his controls again. “I’ll land, okay?” He switched control back to him. “Get ready to—”

Jyn was already moving. She jumped out of her seat and bolted towards the cabin of the ship, headed for the door. She waited, bouncing on her feet, as Bodhi landed the ship. As soon as she felt the landing gear skim the ground, she punched the button to lower the platform, no longer caring about the risks, no longer having the patience to wait until they were properly landed.

_ Cassian. _

_ Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. _

The wind was sharp against her skin, sucking the air from her lungs. Her eyes watered at the frigid temperatures. The snow pellets stung her skin.

Jyn ran.

Her arm came up to shield her face as she sprinted. Her legs burned. She struggled to breathe against the wind. The snow was slick under her boots.

_ Please don’t be too late. Please be okay. Please work. _

_ Please, please, please. _

Jyn reached the door before Bodhi had landed the ship properly. She cursed herself for damaging the only way of communicating with Kay; the door was still locked when she tried the handle. He didn’t know she was coming.

“Fuck!” she screamed. She pounded on the door, her palm stinging from the force she used. “Kay! Open up!” She pounded furiously. “Kay!”

It was taking too long.

Jyn stumbled away from the door, her gaze shooting around the house.

The windowsill.

She jumped for the highest windowsill, knowing this was where Cassian kept a spare—

_ There. _

Her fingers curled around a metal key.

Her heart was in her throat. She could barely see between her hair and her tears. Her fingers shook as she handled the key.

After a painstakingly long moment, she managed to steady her hand long enough to push the key into place and turn. The door clicked open. She rushed forward.

“Kay!” she called, her voice echoing around the horribly silent home. It was terrifying that Kay hadn’t greeted her at the door — where was he?

_ Please don’t be too late. Please, please, pl _ —

“Jyn!?” Kay came into view, having left Cassian’s room. He stood still, his voice twisted with shock. “How in—”

“No time.” She kicked the door shut behind her, sealing out the snow and winds. She rushed forward, her feet flying underneath her. “Am I— Am I too late?”

“No, he’s—”

Jyn pushed past him, sprinting towards Cassian’s room. She ran through the familiar hallways, the world blurring around her.

“How much time is left?”

“One minute and forty-three sec—”

_ Fuck. _

Jyn was near hysterics when she burst into Cassian’s room. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought this was an average day. Cassian laid where he always did, unmoved from the first time she saw him. The blankets were pulled tight across his abdomen, his palms face up on the covers.

_ Cassian. _

_ Please. _

She half-climbed onto the bed beside him, her knee planted firmly beside his hip. For a moment, her hands hesitated over him, as if  _ reaching out and touching him  _ would change everything. She moved slowly, her fingertips ghosting along his forearm and chest. Her eyes darted across him, drinking in all the details, her—

“Please save your strange human mating ritual until later,” Kay requested. She jolted. She hadn't realized he was behind her, she was so caught up with the man below her. “He has one minute until—”

Jyn zeroed in on his lips. Her heart hammered. Her mouth grew uncomfortably dry. Her stomach flipped.

_ Please. Wake up. _

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his lifeless ones. The kiss lasted for a moment longer, her mind racing, her heart pounding, and—

Nothing.

She pulled back, chest heaving. Her gaze swept along his body quickly before coming to rest on his face.

_ Please. Cassian. _

His expression didn’t shift, his breathing remained the same, the heartbeat under her hands remained steady.

_ No. _

She clutched at the remaining slivers of hope, but—

_ He wasn’t waking up. _

“Cassian,” she said, her voice shaking. Her fingers curled around his forearm, as if her grip alone could pull him from his slumber. “Cassian,  _ please.” _

The kiss — it didn’t feel like anything special — and it made her doubt  _ everything.  _ There wasn’t a spark, there wasn’t a pull, and now he wasn’t waking up.

_ She wasn’t his soulmate. _

The galaxy crashed down around Jyn.

_ She was supposed to find his soulmate. _

_ She was supposed to  _ **_be_ ** _ his soulmate. _

Her heart shattered. Tears threatened to spill over. She felt like she was a bright star coming to the end of its life cycle — drained of hope, drained of light, and—

His hand curled against her thigh, his fingers moving as if he was afraid she’d break with any pressure. 

“Jyn?”

She blinked, forcing the tears from her eyes.

She let out a laugh mixed with a sob, a torrent of emotions hitting her all at once.  _ Bliss, happiness, relief, love— _

For the first time, Jyn stared into Cassian’s eyes. They were darker than she thought they would be and filled with even more shades of brown. His eyebrows were pushed together — an expression she knew he wore when he was unsure.

Jyn grasped his hand, just like she did all those weeks ago. This time, his hand curled against her own, his fingers shakily winding with hers.

“Cassian,” she breathed, her voice cracking. She couldn’t fathom the right words in this moment — after all, what does one say to their soulmate when meeting them for the first time? So, she settled for, “hi.”

Cassian’s face lit up with a grin — a grin that she knew so well, yet  _ didn’t,  _ all at the same time. There was something so different about  _ seeing  _ him in person. There was something that no hologram could ever capture.

_ His soul. _

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his lips barely moving. His free hand stretched across his chest and cupped her cheek. Her heart throbbed for an entirely different reason than before. His thumb swept her tears from her face.

_ Kriff,  _ she didn’t even know she was crying.

Her hand cupped his, her palm flush against the back of his hand. She leaned into his touch and  _ smiled  _ because—

Everything was going to be alright.

Then, his grip on her hand loosened. His smile faded. His eyes grew unfocused before fluttering shut.

Her heart jumped to her throat. She leaned forward, her hand moving to shake his shoulder, already fearing the worst.  _ No. No, no, no _ —

“He’s resting,” Kay said quickly, catching her hand before she could shake him. “He  _ did  _ almost just die, Jyn.” She turned to him, her glare lacking heat. “You’re crying.”

She wiped at her cheeks. “I am.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Cassian is alive. I don’t understand why you feel it’s necessary to cry.”

“They’re  _ happy  _ tears.” Despite never wanting to, she dropped her grip from Cassian, instead choosing to stare at him.

_ He was alive.  _ He was twenty-six years old and  _ he was alive. _

She did it.

Kay broke the silence. “Well, you certainly arrived late enough.”

Jyn could only laugh.

* * *

The next morning, Kay cornered her in the kitchen.

She sipped on a hot cup of tea and quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

He placed a cool metal hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Jyn Erso.”

Her heart warmed.

“Now, I wanted to discuss payment. Which account—“

She lurched forward, the hot drink burning her mouth. “No. No, I can’t get paid for this.”

Jyn had come to this decision hours ago, when she pretended to try and sleep in the spare bedroom, once again wrapped in Cassian’s clothes.

Kay stilled. “Why not?”

“I… Cassian is my soulmate as much as I am his.”

“Yes, I believe that’s how soulmates work.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately at his snark. “I can’t get paid for this. It seems… wrong. It wasn’t just a job. Clearly. Considering I fell in love with him and woke him up with a kiss.”

“And?”

“Well… pay a portion of the credits to Bodhi for all he’s done. He’ll probably disagree, but just pull the whole ‘my best friend almost died and I want to thank you’ card.” She took another sip of her drink. “But I can’t accept payment from you of Cassian. You two are…”

_ Family. _

The word hit her with such force that it made her lose her breath for a moment.

_ That’s what they were. A family.  _ Even without the soulmate thing, she loved both Cassian and Kay more than she loved anyone in a long time.

“We’re what, Jyn?” Kay asked.

“Pains in my ass.”

He bristled. “Well, I’ll have you know—“

Yes. This was where she belonged.

* * *

Later that day, Bodhi took a speeder to the nearest trading post in hopes of finding some rare parts for his shop. Kay was set up at his charging station, his battery nearly depleted from the last several days of worry over Cassian. Cassian was still resting, leaving Jyn — for the first time in months — unsure what to do.

Ever since she met Kay in the stifling hot bar on the horrible hell-ish planet, she had a mission. She had a clear goal that she needed to achieve. While each day wasn’t preplanned, she knew exactly what needed to be done.

Now…

Cassian lived.

She found his soulmate.

She succeeded.

_ Her mission was complete. _

There was nothing left to do.

She was now living in a time she didn’t  _ dare  _ think about when she was still on her mission;  _ what next? _

Jyn hadn’t been sure what she was going to do after she finished this job before. She thought maybe she’d return to Saw. Maybe she’d continue through the galaxy, continuing to hop planets and live by the day. Maybe she’d keep in contact with Kay and Cassian if they wanted. She might’ve even attended Cassian’s wedding, considering she was the one who set him up with his soulmate.

It was all different now.

_ She was his soulmate. _

(She’d never grow tired of thinking that.)

What was she going to do next?

She sat back on her haunches, examining her work. The blizzard had calmed during the night, leaving the air crisp and clear. Once she saw how drained Kay was and how clear it was outside, she offered to do his rounds on checking the ice.

Jyn didn’t really know what she was doing, but she assumed it didn’t really matter. One day of shitty measurements on her part wasn’t going to kill whatever experiment Kay had been running. 

She marked the measurements down on the holo-pad and decided that was good enough for the day. Her ears were freezing and her nose was running. Fest might’ve been beautiful without blizzards, but it was still horribly cold.

Jyn found her way to the shed in the back, filled with a wide array of tools and machinery. She unloaded a few tools from her pockets, her back to the door, her mind in the stars.

A cold gust of wind hit her back as the shed door was pulled open. Jyn paused in her task to turn to the door. Her breathing hitched when she saw Cassian in the threshold of the doorway.

Just  _ seeing  _ him did funny things to her whole body. Her stomach curled. Her heart raced. Her palms grew sweaty. He made her feel like a teenager in love again.

_ She was in love. _

“Hi,” he greeted. His voice was softer in real life. She couldn’t believe the holograms missed  _ so much  _ depth to him — not just in his voice, but in his eyes, and his expressions, and his mannerisms. 

There was going to be a lot she would have to relearn about him and  _ she couldn’t wait. _

She wanted to learn everything about him. Jyn wanted to memorize all the shades of brown in his eyes, and learn every shift of his expression, and hear the way his tone changed, and see all of his smiles.

“Hi,” she replied. She set down the tools in her hands and leaned against the worktable. “I thought you were supposed to be resting?”

Cassian stepped into the shed, the door sliding shut behind him. The world grew far away with that simple action.

Suddenly, it was just her and him

_ Just the two of them. _

“I’ve been resting for months,” he said. “I’m very well rested.”

“I see.”

The conversation was tense and she hated it.

It made sense. She knew everything about him, while he didn’t know the first thing about her. They were soulmates, but that didn’t mean their relationship had developed magically or instantly. She knew their relationship — whatever that relationship might be — would grow from the work they put into it.

Cassian cracked a smile and took a slow step towards her. “I like your jacket.”

She glanced down at the material, her heart thudding to a stop. She was wearing the navy blue jacket she found on  _ Rogue, _ the one with the dozens of rips, the one with the fascinating history, the one that she loved so much.

_ His jacket. _

“Oh.” Jyn grew awkward and moved to take it off. “Sorry, here, I—”

“No, no.” Cassian closed the distance between them, his hand outstretched to stop her. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. “Keep it.” His lopsided grin made warmth curl in her. “It suits you.”

She released her grip on the hem. “I— Thank you.” Feeling the need to explain herself, she continued. “I found it on  _ Rogue  _ when I first started seeking. Kay said I could—”

“I’m serious, Jyn.  _ Keep it.  _ It looks good on you.”

_ Yeah.  _ Cassian was a bigger flirt than the holograms led her to believe. Or, maybe it was because she was already so  _ nervous  _ and already had a  _ major fucking crush on him. _

It was almost surreal to see him in front of her.  _ Standing. Talking. Breathing. Living.  _ This wasn’t a hologram log anymore; she could see him in the real world, she could see beyond the blue-tinged holos, she could see  _ him. _

“This is awkward,” she pointed out. Cassian laughed at that. She loved the way he laughed; he threw his whole body and soul into the act, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. It was endearing and beautiful.  _ He was beautiful. _

“I always imagined it would be awkward,” he admitted. “But… we’ll get the hang of it. Won’t we?”

“Mhmm. How could we not? I think the universe tried everything it could to pull us together.” Jyn leaned against the table. “Kay always told me that the other half of the soulmate bond would most likely be somewhere I’d visit, like a main city, because they’d already be making their way towards you, that they were pulled in your direction. Jokes on him, I guess, because I was  _ really  _ pulled in your direction.”

“He’s going to be miserable, isn’t he?” Cassian asked. “For once in his life, we have proof that he was  _ wrong.” _

“Oh, no, he’ll talk his way out of it. He already explained to me that he wasn’t wrong; he always said there was a two percent chance that we were soulmates, so technically he was always right.” Jyn rolled her eyes in affection. Cassian’s eyebrows pushed together. “Hold on; how much do you actually  _ know  _ about the last few months?”

“Not much.” He laughed. “Two percent? That’s the stat he gave you?”

“Two percent.”

They laughed together and it felt like they were two friends sharing an old joke. A warmth enveloped her chest, blooming out from her heart into every crevice of her body.

“We have a lot to catch up on,” she told him. “Twenty-one years worth of things.”

His eyes softened. “I can’t wait.” Jyn was tempted to reach for him. She didn’t. “I just… I wanted to tell you thank you, Jyn. You…  _ saved  _ me.” He stepped closer to her. Her throat grew tight. “You dedicated months of your life to helping me. That’s…  _ astonishing.” _

“Who knew that all I needed to do was kiss you? It would’ve saved us months of work.” His eyes dipped towards her lips for the briefest moment. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, suddenly painfully aware of her every movement. “You’re welcome. I… It was a job at first, but it became so much more almost immediately.”

“And it has become so much more again?” he offered. It was an understatement. “Thank you though. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. And Kay — he can be…  _ a lot  _ at times, but I’m sure he was really grateful to have you.”

Jyn grimaced. “The same can’t be said about your ship. I had… an incident with it.”

“Oh?”

“Someone tried to kill me. Failed on that end of things, succeeded in killing your ship.” Cassian’s eyes dipped towards her lips again, his expression growing concerned. “I’m fine, but—”

“You’re hurt,” he pointed out. He stepped closer again, finally closing the distance between the two of them. His hand moved to brush against her jaw, tilting her head towards him gently. His eyes studied her lips. “Your lips is busted.”

_ Oh. Right. _

With everything going on, she almost forgot that Nadia managed to deck her right in the face only a few days ago.

Her hand came up to brush her lip absentmindedly.

“The last few days haven’t been the best,” she admitted.

His touch was gentle on her jaw. His eyes were intense on her lips. She could see the various shades of brown in them, they were so close; the golden flecks, the warm honey, the browns that reminded her of trees. His lips were parted the slightest bit and—

She was hit with the strongest urge to kiss him.

It struck her so forcefully that it sucked the air from her lungs and made her mouth run dry.

Slowly, he pulled his eyes back up to hers. A wave of understanding passed between them. Her pulse raced.

“Jyn,” he breathed, her voice coming out like a plea.

_ That was all it took to shatter the tension between them. _

She was the one to move forward, capturing his lips with her own once again. He responded immediately, his lips moving against hers perfectly. His free arm wound around her middle, pulling her flush against him, while his other hand remained on her jaw, cradling her face with so much tenderness that she felt like she was going to crack in two.

Jyn’s hands came to rest on his chest, searching for the wild heartbeat underneath — a reminder that he was here, that he was alive, that he was  _ awake. _

She’d never been kissed like this before; so full of life, so full of tenderness, so full of desperation. It was passionate and soft all at the same time, making her feel like she was flying with joy and heavy with warmth all at the same time.

When they parted, their chests were heaving. Her eyes locked with his, searching — for what, she wasn’t sure.

Unlike the first kiss,  _ she felt something.  _ It wasn’t a spark of electricity; rather, it was a wave of calm, a wave of understanding, a feeling of  _ togetherness. _

And that was the true heart of what soulmates were; the coming together of two souls. It wasn’t about passion, it wasn’t about heat, it wasn’t about desire. It was two beings of the same stardust coming back together again.

She let out a breathless laugh and his forehead pressed against hers. Kissing him was better than she ever imagined it to be.

“Jyn,” he said again, so simply. It was enough to convey everything he wanted. She  _ felt  _ it.

Finally, she understood what all those guides were talking about.

_ This feeling.  _

She knew.

When Jyn pulled her head away from his, their eyes met again. She couldn’t shake one growing question. “You knew my name.”

“What?”

“When you woke up,” she said. “You knew my name. How’d you know?”

His eyes slid shut and his lips quirked up. “I… I  _ heard  _ you when you visited me.” They locked eyes. “You introduced yourself.”

She grew stiff with apprehension, recalling that conversation perfectly. If she knew he was listening, she doubted she would’ve said what she did.

“I guess you know that I love you then?” she questioned.

Cassian’s smile widened. “I guess you know that I love you, too, Jyn. You were my seeker; you watched my logs. From the start, I said that I already loved my soulmate, even though I didn’t know them.”

“Well, now you know me. I don’t disappoint?” she teased.

“The opposite. I love you, Jyn.”

She didn’t have to say it back. He already knew. “So,” she breathed. “We’re soulmates.”

_ It was surreal. _

Cassian’s hold on her tightened. “We’re soulmates.”

And, finally, she said the last burning question on her mind. “What do we do now?”

“I’m not sure.” He brushed a stray piece of her hair off of her face. “But, we have all the time in the galaxy to figure it out.”

That was a luxury neither of them had before.

Cassian smiled. “Welcome home, Jyn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIN.
> 
> Wow, I can’t believe it’s over! Thank you for coming along for the ride. This was meant to be a lot shorter than it ended up being, but that’s the story of my life. Jyn seemed to take this story away from me and run, which made writing this so much fun. It was like a breath of fresh air!
> 
> If you’ve commented, left a kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, or simply read this fic — I thank you. I appreciate all the kind words and support you’ve all given me. It was truly such a lovely welcome to the RebelCaptain fandom.
> 
> A special shout out to thegiddyowl for prompting me this idea for Secret Santa. While it isn’t Secret Santa season anymore, I still hope your holidays were wonderful :)
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
> Paw


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